Feast On My Flesh
by Buster's Jezebel
Summary: Connor is always there for everyone. But when things get too much Murphy is there for Connor. He picks Connor up and puts him back together again. I have no ownership of Boondock Saints though I wish otherwise. Duffy owns their whip. I just steal it sometimes in nasty, filthy, kinky ways.
1. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 1

_A/N – This story prompt woke me out of a sound sleep at three am (yes I checked the time) one Monday morning. This story will be all about the rope. But dark, twisted, angsty rope this time. Nothing like my rope in Sex Four Ways. For those who don't know me **explicit and out there** smut will feature from the next chapter on. And it is of the slash twincest variety. If you don't like that, **don't** read this story because if this goes according to plan both Murphy and Connor will be put through the wringer. This story is set between the movies when Murphy and Connor are living in Ireland with Noah._

* * *

Connor was vibrating in his sleep. Murphy woke up feeling him, Connor's vibrations pressing against his own brain, battering at him. Exhausting him already when they'd only just begun again. He crawls out of bed and walks unapologetically naked to the bathroom down the hall. It was between his and Connor's room and his father's tiny bedroom. As he takes a leak Murphy remembers when they'd arrived at the small house the Church had furnished them with upon their return to Ireland.

He and Con had immediately thrown their bags onto the double bed in the main room, leaving Noah, their father with the tiny bedroom and the bunk beds. Noah had frowned at them but not said anything. At first. Putting on the light Murphy looks at himself in the mirror as he washes his hands. He looks tired, haggard. These past few years have been fucking rough on them. It wasn't a fucking movie, they didn't reunite with their father and fade to happy every after shit when the credits rolled.

Was fucking hard work, trying to build a relationship with a father who'd been in prison for most of their lives. Not to mention living with the man when he and Con were used to being on their own, sharing everything, anytime they wanted to. Murphy leans on the vanity staring at himself, dark hair, blue eyes, growing beard. It was covering his moles which was a good thing. Murphy hated his moles. For some reason women were turned on by them and that just pissed him off.

Shaking his head Murphy switches off the light and heads back to his bedroom. Flopping on the bed beside his vibrating brother he closes his eyes and shifts his mind, mentally blocking Connor's vibrations so he can sleep himself.

##########

Three days later they leave for the hills, moving sheep through some paddocks. They'll be away for a few days at the most. Murphy hopes it will be enough to stop Connor vibrating but he doubts it. It's the other he needs to get him through things now. Not the clean air, the endless sky and the open paddocks. But Murphy will always try his other avenues first, it's almost like a game, seeing what will and won't work to still Connor's vibrations.

The first night they camp Connor fucks Murphy three times. He is hard and aggressive, Murphy spends the next day in the saddle in pain. The second night they're away Murphy holds Connor while he cries and apologises repeatedly. Murphy strokes his hair and murmurs nonsensical stuff in Connor's ear. It slows the vibrations but doesn't stop them.

The third night Murphy instigates a knock down drag out fight. All that does is get him het up enough to fuck Connor as hard and fast as Connor had fucked him and then some. Now they're both wincing in the saddle on the way home and Connor is vibrating so much Murphy's skull feels like it's splitting from the inside out. Connor is battering at him so hard Murphy fancies he can see Connor vibrating as he rides along beside him.

Halting his mare at their cottage Murphy dismounts tossing the reins to Connor, "Need to talk to Da, be over soon to help you Con." Murphy see's Connor's hands jerk on his own reins and his whole body twitch at his words. He nods without looking at Murphy.

"Aye brother. Thank you." Murphy sighs as he watches Connor move off, he fancies he feels the vibrations lessen already but he's probably just imagining it. Walking inside he doesn't bother taking off his boots, he'll be going out again soon enough.

"Da?" He calls out. Noah looks up from the rocking chair he'd been doing his leather work in.

"Murphy?" He questions, looking immediately behind for Connor. "Where is Connor?"

"Still in the stable, I'm out again meself. You need to go." Murphy says no more and Noah looks up at him.

"Murphy, 'S not right. You shouldn't…' Murphy says no more, merely turns and ignoring his father he leaves the cottage and goes to the stable. Connor has unsaddled both horses and is brushing his own mount down already. Murphy gets a brush and starts on his mare. His temper is boiling over as it always is with his father's asinine attitude.

What right did he have to say what he and Con did was wrong? He had no idea, no fucking idea what it was like growing up without him. Growing up and dealing with their fucking drunk mother. Murphy snorts as his mare moves under his hands. He murmurs to her soothingly, trying to calm her even if he can't calm himself.

Suddenly Connor's hands are there, taking the brush, pushing him aside. "'S okay Murph, I got this, wipe down the tack yeah?" Con asks softly, his own fingers trembling as they touch Murphy's. His need is barely controlled, Murphy can feel the vibrations almost pushing physically at him, trying to crawl under his skin, to wrap themselves around his throat and squeeze until he can't breathe anymore.

"Ta Con." He answers as he moves to the tack getting out the polish and a rag. He is slow and methodical, ignoring Connor as he finishes with Murphy's mare and then feeds the rest of their animals for the evening. Once they're in the cottage they won't be coming out until the next day at least. Connor is in the shed getting feed for the chickens when Murphy see's Noah standing at the fence out of the corner of his eye.

"There's stew staying warm, bread fresh-baked as well. How long should I be gone for?" Murphy finally looks at Noah as he asks this question. He looks over to the shed that holds the most precious thing in the world to him and closes his eyes for a second opening himself to Connor's vibrations.

"Three or four days, week would be best." He answers as he opens his eyes and looks over at his father. Noah shakes his head.

"If I'm gone a week I could come back to find you dead." His words are harsh, blunt and truthful. Murphy shakes his head.

"If that's the case then Da, Con would be dead too and you fuckin' know it." He answers just as harshly.

"You know it's wrong, sick, unnatural and against everything the church stands for, everything _life_ stands for." Noah is working himself up to a rant and Murphy is hoarding his energy for what is to come so he cuts his father off at the pass before he can get up a head of steam and come to blows with Murphy. If Con ever found out the shit Noah said to Murphy he'd kill Noah without hesitation. Murphy knows full well he would see it as a slight, not as someone who just doesn't understand them and their unique relationship.

"Aye and a fuckin' 'calling' from God is natural? Ain't stupid Da, 'S bunch a bullshit and I fuckin' know it, get the fuck out, don't come back for a week." Murphy turns away and finishes with the tack. When he looks over he sees Connor watching silently from the shed doorway he wonders how much, if anything he'd heard.

After cleaning the tack Murphy checks all the animals have water and then he stands in the yard and stretches. It is late afternoon. They are alone as they rarely are these days and despite Connor's vibrations battering at him he feels his shoulders relaxing bit by bit. Walking to the cottage Murphy sits on the front stoop and waits for the other half of his soul to finish with the animals and join him.

##########

Noah curses as he drives into town. He will go to Father Jamison's the next town over. Punching the steering wheel Noah continues to curse, he can't make Murphy see that what they do, how they are with each other is wrong. It's blasphemy against everything they stand for. What they do disgusts Noah on his most basic human level.

Both his sons physically disgust him. They are brothers, twins. Flesh of his flesh, flesh of each other's flesh. It is against every possible law known to man and God that they be lovers. It is wrong on every level and yet he has lived with the knowledge that they're lovers for three years now. How long they have lived with it he doesn't know and will not ask.

As always when he's been banished Noah thinks of when he'd first discovered that Murphy and Connor were more than brothers. He'd received a hint when they'd taken the larger bedroom with the double bed. It had been something they didn't even hesitate over, they'd just taken it, as it if were their right to have the bigger bed instead of his as their father.

It was a month later that Noah finally realised the bruises and scrapes that they often sported on their necks and collarbones weren't from horsing around, though he'd thought they did plenty of that in their bedroom from the sounds he heard. He'd thought it odd at first that they didn't do any horsing around in the kitchen or lounge of the cottage, they didn't wrestle in the yard, it was always and only ever in their bedroom. That had been his second hint. His third hint was the face that they often showered together, not just using the bathroom together, but showering.

But his biggest hint had been when Connor had been skittish one night for lack of a better word. Murphy had settled him by stroking a hand down his spine, he'd started at Connor's neck, squeezing the muscles tightly and then stroking his fingers down Connor's spine until he reached the belt, then his hand had slid around to palm one of Connor's hips, squeezing there as well before letting go. Noah had been beyond speechless.

How could he have missed all of those signs? When he'd gone to bed that evening he had not slept. He'd listened to Murphy and Connor having sex and had felt soiled himself as he now realised those sounds weren't horsing around, they were the sounds of sex. Sex between his sons, his twin sons.

A month, it had taken him a month to realise they were more than brothers.

Courage to speak of the knowledge he now had, had taken another two months to gather. Two months of listening and praying he wouldn't vomit, praying he wouldn't pick up his shotgun and walk into their bedroom and end them both.

Murphy hadn't taken more than three fucking minutes to shut him down. _"What we are is none of your fuckin' business, "S ours and ours alone, not yours, not Ma's, not the fuckin' churches, or any fuckin' priests, you mention it again to me or Con, together or separate, I'll slit your fuckin' throat Da, see if I don't."_ Murphy had said no more but he'd backed away until he stood in front of Connor protectively. Noah gave up the fight before he'd even begun when he saw Connor wrap an arm around Murphy's slim waist even as his other reached for the carving knife that had lain on the kitchen bench.

However when he'd come back from a weekend away four months later to find Murphy bruised and battered with rope burns all over his body Noah had spoken again.

It had taken Connor five minutes to pull Murphy off Noah and calm him, despite his injuries Murphy would have killed Noah and he knew it.

And so Noah quit while he was ahead. He learned to close his ears to the sounds he heard almost every evening when they were all abed. He learned to be blind to the marks that both Murphy and Connor were almost always sporting somewhere on their neck and collarbones. The bruises he'd see if a shirt rode up too much or jeans rode down. And he learned to tell Murphy how well he looked when he returned to the cottage after he'd been told to leave for a few days.

Usually every few months he'd be told by Murphy to make himself scarce. It was always just as he noticed that there was something wrong with Connor that Murphy told him to go. It took Noah a long time to realise that when he noticed Connor's twitchiness Murphy had already been aware of it for days. He knew when it got too much and he took steps to get Noah out of the way so that when Connor blew he was the only one around.

He'd gone to their mother about a year ago asking if Connor had ever had any treatment. She had told him yes, but nothing had worked. Only Murphy had been able to calm Connor down, he'd figured out a way when they were around sixteen or so. Noah wondered if this was when they became lovers but he'd never queried if Annabelle knew they were more than brothers. He had no place to question what she may or may not have known considering he'd never kept in contact after being jailed in the United States.

When he gets to the next town over, Noah pulls up in front of Father Jamison's rectory and shuts off the engine of the truck. He rests his head on the steering wheel, he is both glad to be away and dreading what he will find when he returns home. Looking at Father who has opened the front door to him Noah knows Murphy has rung him and told him that he was on his way. Noah shakes his head. Murphy took care of everyone, but who took care of Murphy?

Noah asks God for forgiveness on his knees every night; forgiveness for the one sin he does not, cannot confess.

That the flesh of his flesh feast on each other.


	2. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 2

Murphy and Connor enter the cottage together. The remove their boots, Connor takes Murphy's and cleans them as he does his own. Murphy contacts Father Jamison to let him know Da is on his way and that he's to stay a week. He goes to the kitchen and starts to serve dinner knowing Connor won't eat in his current state unless he makes him eat. It's also a way of delaying the inevitable and anticipating it at the same time.

Connor comes after washing his hands and sits silently at the table. When Murphy puts a bowl of stew in front of him he takes his wrist rubbing it lightly. It has faint scars on it that will never go away, scars from years of Connor roping him, tying him down and fucking the living shit out of him without thought or consequence when he needs so. Not scars like on Connor's wrists from when he'd cut himself to the bone to save his brother's life. These are more like spoils of victory. But a dirty, secret, haggard victory that is shared only between them.

Each scar is a reminder that they've lived through another episode, survived another day. "Was he bad?" Connor asks as he rubs his head against Murphy's bony hip, snaking a hand around his waist to keep him by his side where he needs him.

"No worse than usual." Connor may not be aware of the exact words that Murphy and Noah have, but he knows the tone of the conversation.

"Wish he'd never come back sometimes Murph." Connor says as he leans further into his brother's strength, taking comfort in the touch on his hair, stroking it softly.

"Aye Con, sometimes I wish you'd let me kill the motherfucker." Murphy answers. He pulls away to get his own bowl and bring the bread to the table.

"Me too Murph." Connor answers as he starts to eat. He eats methodically without thought, it is only the fact that he is with Murphy, his heart that allows him to function at this moment. He is too mired in his thoughts. His vibrations as Murphy calls them. He finishes dinner and the pudding Murphy sets down as well. He doesn't move when Murphy gets up and cleans the kitchen.

Curling in on himself Connor waits. Murphy will tell him when he's ready. Sitting at the table Connor finally, finally starts to settle, knowing what is coming helps him as nothing else. He wishes with all his heart that he didn't need to do this but at the same time he knows that he does this only because of his brother. Murphy had devised this as a way of Connor coping without medication that turned him into a walking emotional zombie.

The pain that put Murphy through was worse than this. Because Murphy couldn't cope with Connor not having his back and he couldn't cope with the void in his brain where Connor used to be. So he'd devised a way. A way for Connor and Murphy to be together, to stay together. In mind, body and spirit.

Suddenly rope is placed on the table in front of him. But it's not their usual rope. This different. It's soft and long and silky and it won't abrade Murphy skin like usual he thinks. Connor strokes his long fingers over it softly. He looks up at his brother, eyes shining. "For me, you bought it for me Murph?"

Murphy nods. "Aye Con, anything for you brother. Anything." His hands cup Connor's face softly and he leans down taking a kiss. His mouth is gentle on Connor's as it rarely is, soft and questing as his tongue strokes over Connor's lips, asking for entrance, not demanding it as usual. Connor's lips parts on a sigh of pleasure as Murphy kisses him and he reaches greedily for his brother, secure in the knowledge that Noah will not interrupt them.

"Love you Con." Murphy says as he moves forward willingly into Connor's arms, straddling him in the kitchen chair, their cocks grind together and they both moan.

"Love you too brother." Connor answers as his hand pull Murphy's sweater up and off leaving him naked to the waist. Connor kisses down Murphy's neck, tongue licking and sucking at his flesh lightly. When he reaches Murphy's nipples he nips them making Murphy squirm deliciously in his lap. He feel's Murphy's hands on his belt and lifts his hips taking Murphy with him so Murphy can somehow tug his jeans and boxers down his hips. Connor sits and kicks them away.

He is now naked from the waist down. Murphy then attacks his top half, forcing Connor to lean away for a few seconds to get his shirt and sweater off. Connor uses this time to get Murphy's belt. And then they're both naked. Murphy wiggles out of Connor's grip, reaching back for something else on the table, his hands coming back with a tube of lube. He squirts some on his fingers and then he is back in Connor's lap, fingers pressing between Connor's legs, searching for his hole.

When he finds it he stops and looks down at his brother. "Gonna fuck you first Con." He says as his fingers push inside Connor steadily. Connor nods as his head falls back. Murphy leans with him, his mouth opening on Connor's throat, biting and sucking, marking him Connor knows. Just as Murphy himself will be marked before the night is through.

Spreading his legs as much as he can Connor grows impatient. So he grasps Murphy and stands and then turns around and slides Murphy into the chair, following him down so their positions are reversed. Connor is now straddling Murphy. Both groan as it opens Connor to Murphy's fingers that much more. Murphy pushes another finger inside Connor and Connor groans as he leans forward, resting his head on Murphy's shoulder.

He begins to moan, without thought, without reason. Allowing himself to simply be as there is no one around to interrupt them, to spy on them. Then Murphy's fingers skate across Connor's prostate and Connor moans again as his back arches up and back, he fall's, his elbows catching painfully on the table edge.

"More brother, more…" His words trail off as Murphy complies.

"You want all of me Con?" He asks softly as he pushes further into his brother. It is something he has done for Connor before but not often and usually not when Connor is so desperate. So heedless.

"Murph, yes." Connor opens his eyes and Murphy is lost. His pupils have expanded until Murphy feels like he's looking straight at their soul, there is no blue, no gold flecks, there is black and only black. The colour of the rope he'd bought when he was several towns over last month, the colour of both their eyes Murphy knows when they're steeped and mired so far in each other they have no comprehension of the outside world. Black, the colour of their pain and want, their sin and blaspheme, the colour of their soul.

For while both Murphy and Connor know that what they do is against every law known to man and God, that will never stop them, they are all that matters to each other. Black is them, their soul. For they have only one soul. One that they share. As they share everything else.

Reaching over Connor, Murphy grabs the lube and he flips it open squirting more directly on Connor's entrance as he continues pushing all of his fingers into Connor now. He looks up. Connor is looking at him mutely, eyes pleading for Murphy to take him in his hand.

"You sure Con?" Murphy always asks, and he always trusts Connor's answer. Connor would never lie to him.

"I'm sure Murph." Connor nods and pushes his body back, raising up further on the table, his legs coming up, feet bracing on Murphy's knee's. Murphy spreads them as wide as he can, spreading Connor more for him. Then he folds in his thumb and begins to push his hand into Connor.

Connor had asked to be held by Murphy. Murphy knew he meant literally.

"Ah, fuck yes." Connor speaks on a groan as he bears down to take Murphy's hand. Murphy slowly pushes his fingers forward until his crossed thumb is at Connor's entrance. Then he pauses looking up at Connor. Connor opens his black eyes and looks down at Murphy. "Brother," He says and as Murphy pushes, Connor bears down and shudders and Murphy is inside him.

"Con!" Murphy calls out as Connor clamps around his wrist tightly but Connor can only groan in response. Murphy can feel him spasming around his wrist and hand as he sees Connor shoot. His come jets from his cock as if shot from a gun. Murphy growls at he sees it land on Connor's stomach and chest. That belongs to him.

Leaning forward he kisses one of Connor's knees and gasps quietly when one of Connor's feet move to his own hard cock. Connor's blunt toenails scrape across his shaft and then the sole of his foot presses Murphy's cock against his stomach and he starts to slide up and down, using Murphy's stomach as an anchor he brings Murphy off even as he is finishes coming himself.

It's the way Connor is, caring too much for other people until there is nothing left of him. It's then that the vibrating starts. And when that is at its crescendo that is when he needs Murphy to be there for him in every way.

Murphy leans his forehead on Connor's knee and moans quietly as Connor brings him off. Suddenly Connor speaks. "More Murph, more." Murphy's other hand, still clasped inside Connor opens and his fingers push firmly against Connor's prostate and he jerks in Murphy's hand. "Fucker." Connor gasps as he pushes.

"Your fucker." Murphy growls in response as his mouth opens on Connor's knee and he closes his teeth on the soft flesh on the inside of it. Connor jerks as Murphy's teeth close over his flesh, he can feel Murphy biting him, his tongue laving him, bringing the blood to the surface. Murphy was marking him.

Pressing harder Connor's foot moves faster up and down, pulling Murphy's orgasm from him.

Murphy groans, his teeth releasing his brother as he breathes through his orgasm, his hand inside Connor clenching into a fist and thrusting slightly making Connor moan for him again. Murphy starts to open and close his hand inside Connor, Connor gasps his foot stuttering to a stop as the sensations overwhelm him.

"Murphy!" He calls out.

"'M here Con. Always." Murphy answers his heart.

"I know." Connor answers his words trailing off on a groan as his cock gets hard again.

Murphy carefully repositions Connor's legs and then stands up, he leans down over Connor's body and he kisses and licks Connor's come from his stomach and chest, all the while moving his hand inside Connor, fingers pushing against Connor's prostate firmly. When he feels Connor's cock become fully erect and butt him in the chin he moves down, opening his mouth over it and swallowing him whole.

"Murphy!" Connor calls his brother's name again and again. He cannot help himself from calling his heart even when his heart holds him literally in his hand.

"'M here Con, always." Murphy answers before taking Connor's cock back in his mouth again and sucking. He pushes Connor's prostate firmly with his fingers as he moves in and out. Connor's legs wind around his hips, holding him as he is holding Connor.

"Come for me now Con, want you to come again for me. Then you can take me, break me apart and put me back together. Come for me Connor, come now!" Murphy doesn't often command Connor, only when he needs it and now he needs it. Taking Connor's cock back in his mouth he sucks and pushes firmly on Connor's prostate and then pulls his fingers back and flicks it.

Jolting incredibly Connor shoots into Murphy's mouth. Murphy swallows all of him greedily, his tongue pushing into Connor's slit and sucking every drop from him. When he feels Connor wince slightly at the brush of his tongue, he slowly slides off Connor's cock and licks his lips.

"Dirty fucker." Connor mumbles

"Make me repeat meself Con, your dirty fucker brother." Murphy laughs quietly as he slowly begins to pull his fist out of Connor. He pushes on Connor's pelvis and slowly and inexorably pulls out, when he's at the widest bit again he leans down and bites Connor's inner thigh making him jump again. It relaxes him enough to gives Murphy the leverage to pull all of his hand out again.

Suddenly Connor sits up and pulls Murphy to him. He pulls him in for a kiss, searching out his own come to taste with Murphy's own flavour as well. His hands stroke down Murphy's abdomen and through Murphy's drying come and he pulls away from Murphy to suck it off his fingers. Murphy moves away to clean himself up. Connor stands and stretches.

He feels relaxed, more relaxed than he's been in a while but he can also still feel the vibrations still there if he concentrates. He looks at the rope and then over at his brother drying his hands on a towel.

With a feral grin Connor picks up the rope and walks toward the other half of his soul.


	3. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 3

_A/N - Remember what I said, yes it's about the rope. But it's also dark and twisted. The ending of this chapter will no doubt offend some readers. _

* * *

Connor throws the rope casually as he's within a few feet of Murphy and it sails through the air before landing beside him on the kitchen bench. Murphy stops moving when he sees the rope land beside him. Then he slowly and carefully places the towel down before he turns to Connor.

He looks down knowing the game has started and leaves his hands hanging by his sides, feet shoulder width apart. He waits for Connor to speak.

"Look at me." Connors voice is guttural in need; his need fed by Murphy's very stance.

Murphy looks at his brother. His blue eyes glimmer in the low light of the room. Connor smiles and Murphy smiles back.

"Face down on the table, hands behind your back brother mine." Connor orders.

Murphy lowers his eyes and moves to do as Connor says. He crosses his hands behind his back, spreads his legs and waits. His skin is crawling with anticipation. He feels Connor before he sees him, his vibrations reaching for Murphy well before his physical body.

Opening himself Murphy welcomes Connor, their minds meld, becoming one as their souls are. Then he feels Connor at his back and the soft new rope slides around his biceps, circling each one, crossing his back each time it loops his biceps and winding slowly around his arms down to his wrists where Connor ties it off. Murphy's shoulders protest but he does not.

"Need to see Con." Murphy always needs to see how he looks when he's tied up at Connor's hand. He needs to see what Connor sees, not just feel what he feels through the vibrations.

Then he jumps slightly when he feels a lubed finger sliding between the cheeks of his backside. "When I fuck you over the table, you don't come brother mine. If you don't come, I might let you see." Connor chuckles and Murphy swallows. Connor is well and truly in the zone now.

Murphy can feel the vibrations evening out, they're no longer staccato against his brain but even pulses. Still strong, they haven't weakened at all, but they're not battering at him so much either. Murphy's eyes close as he swallows. He hates when Connor forbids him to come, but a small part of him that he'll never acknowledge unless forced to also loves it, needs it as well when Connor is like this.

Because it keeps Murphy focused. Keeps him focused on Connor and helping him, being there for him. Murphy winces when Connor's fingers breach him firmly. No pussyfooting around tonight. Connor wanted in and he was getting in. Murphy finds himself groaning as Connor's fingers push against his prostate immediately. "Con," He whines in protest even as he pushes up on his toes trying to angle himself away. Connor simply laughs and moves with him.

"No coming brother, remember now." Is all he answers. He was fucking with Murphy and his stamina already. Taking Murphy apart piece by piece trying to make him come so he could punish him. Murphy knew he was going to come, he always did. Connor knew him inside and out, knew what would delay him coming and what would make him come faster.

That knowledge didn't stop Murphy trying however. He pushes against the table, trying to push the table away so he can get away himself but Connor's other arm snakes around his hips, keeping him in place. "Con." Murphy says again in protest. He feels Connor laugh before he hears him. There is pleasure in it, dark pleasure. Suddenly as he feels Connor's stomach brush against his arse Murphy reaches back with his bound hands, Connor realises but not quick enough. Murphy manages to grasp the hair on Connors abdomen. The hair trailing down from his navel to his cock.

Connor freezes. "Murph?" He questions softly. Murphy's fingers don't loosen. Fuck, what has he done? Connor is going to punish him well and truly now. He'd touched Connor without asking. Murphy turned his head, pressing his forehead into the kitchen table. Fuck, he always forgot he couldn't touch. "Murph?" Connor questions again. His voice is lower now, deeper. And running through it is a thread of sheer violent delight.

"You're an evil man Connor MacManus, punishing me for trying to love on you." Murphy mutters to the table. Hoping against hope that he can touch Connor's funny bone. Despite his trepidation he feels himself flushing, his skin feels heated, warm. He can feel it prickling wherever Connor's eyes look. Right now they're looking at him all over. Travelling from his neck down his back, his roped arms. Connor's other hand leaves his hips and strokes his neck and down one arm, skating softly over the rope.

"Beautiful brother, you're so beautiful." Murphy shakes his head in protest knowing he shouldn't and sure enough he feels a sharp bruising pinch on his ribs. "Did I say you could disagree with me Murphy?" Connor asks snidely. "Now let me go." And they're back at their issue.

Keeping his forehead on the table Murphy shakes his stubbornly. "No." He says nothing more. His hands have clenched so tightly in Connor's hair his fingers are cramping. He knows, he fucking knows that he's going to be punished for touching without permission. So fuck it. If Connor wants away, he's going to have to fucking tear his hair out in the process.

Suddenly Murphy feels Connor lean down on him. A hot wet kiss is placed on his spine, just above where the rope starts crossing his back. "Let me go Murphy." Connor says again. Orders. Murphy squeezes his eyes shut as he presses his forehead into the table, tries to disappear through it. Then he lifts his head a little and bangs it on the table.

"No." Murphy answers again. Connor's fingers suddenly begin to move inside him, even as he stays leaning over Murphy's back, his weight keeping Murphy in place. He pushes and prods Murphy's prostate repeatedly and Murphy tries to jerk and move to no avail. Connor was already punishing him. "I fucking said NO Connor!" Murphy suddenly roars as Connor's fingers flick his prostate as he'd done to Connor not long ago.

Connor freezes and Murphy tunes into the vibrations again in Connor's physical stillness. They're harsh now, battering him again. Uneven telling him Connor is on the edge of something. Closing his eyes Murphy braces his shoulders for the storm that is his brother as he feels Connor's stillness begin to crumble. His fingers clench in Connor's hair even more and that pull on his brother's flesh is Connor's undoing.

##########

Feeling his fury well up Connor lets it out. Months of reigning himself in over and over release from his mind, his body. He pulls his fingers out of Murphy and replaces them with his cock. Pushing insistently into Murphy's backside he groans as Murphy retaliates by clenching his muscles as tight as he can, fighting his entry.

Ignoring Murphy's attempt at literally cock-blocking him Connor throws his head back and bellows at the ceiling, calling Murphy's name and the Lord's immediately after as he nearly comes from forcing his way through the tightness that is his brother. Little fucker. He screams when he is seated in Murphy, his hips pressing against Murphy's pale arse. Connor suddenly wants to bite Murphy's arse in the worst way. To bruise it, mark it, make it bleed.

Going to pull out he is brought up short by Murphy's fingers still clenching in his hair. "Fucker, let me go." He says again. Before Murphy answers he continues. "I'll not ask again Murph." He waits for Murphy to let him go. But he waits in vain. Realising after some moments Murphy wasn't letting him go. Connor is surprised at first. Then the grin that crawls across his face shows how pleased he truly is. "Oh I get it Murph, you want me to punish you, don't you brother?" Shaking his head at his obtuseness Connor laughs.

Watching his brother he sees Murphy's skin flush again and he laughs more. Murphy hates when he figures out his games and Connor loves when he does. He'll never admit it to anyone but his brother but he loves Murphy's games. Half the time they're so twisted he's left floundering while Murphy runs mental rings around him.

Like now. Murphy might have started out grabbing him in protest, but he wasn't keeping hold of him out of protest. Connor grins again as he strokes a finger over Murphy's slim fingers as they tangle in his hair. He was going to lose a great handful of it he could tell. Murphy had hold of a good amount of it. Sliding his fingers up Murphy's wrist and over the rope as it bands around his arm Connor looks up at the rest of his brother.

Murphy was pale all over unlike him. He never tanned. Connor looks at the tattoos his brother had on his back. He loved biting them when he fucked Murphy from behind. He loved watching the way they undulated over his brother's back, like they were living breathing creatures.

Right now the lower one was partly covered by the silky black rope winding over Murphy's back bicep to bicep. Connor can't help himself from leaning down and tugging on it. Sliding his fingers between Murphy's skin and the rope. "So soft, not like your other rope Murph, I love it. Thank you." Connor hopes the praise will loosen Murphy's fingers. But it does not. Leaning back again Connor keeps his cock pressed deeply within his brother.

Still clenched tightly around him he can feel Murphy pulsing at the same time, rhythmically clenching on him in time with his own cock's pulses. Closing his eyes for a few seconds Connor simply feels them. Together. Their heartbeats, their pulses, their minds. Their soul. And then his hands move to Murphy's hips and he starts to thrust.

Hard and fast, back and forth. He wrings moans and groans of pleasure from his brother's mouth that he echo's himself. Fuck. "Fuck, love you." He mutters and hears Murphy return his words. "No coming." He says again as he feels his balls draw up. He needs to come himself so he can focus on Murphy, on punishing him. And then Connor finds himself shouting as Murphy suddenly finds the strength to clench his arse muscles down on him even harder. "Fucker!" He yells as Murphy wrests control of his orgasm and he explodes inside his brother.

Letting himself fall down over Murphy Connor lets his heartbeat settle. He feels Murphy's heartbeat settling in time with his. He can also still feel Murphy's fingers clenched in his hair. And then Murphy starts clenching on him. Fuck. Fucker knew him inside and out, just like he knew Murphy. Murphy thought doing this would distract him.

"You can do that Murph, I'll let you, but you're still being punished." Connor says to Murphy's back. He grins when he sees the muscles in Murphy's back bunch and writhe at his words. "Ah, I knew you wanted it brother." Finding himself getting hard again Connor pushes up. His eyes never leave his brother's roped body. "Think I'll make you sleep in this tonight Murph." Connor's fingers run over the rope again. It's so pretty on his brother.

"Is that my punishment Con?" Murphy asks hoarsely.

"Oh no brother, not even close, the longer it takes you to let go, the worse it will be too." Connor winces when he feels Murphy's fingers clench even tighter. "So that's the way it is then?" Murphy does not answer.

Connor pushes himself upright and stands, still inside his brother, still feeling Murphy moving on his cock. Leaning down slightly, Connor reaches under Murphy. His cock is hard and slimy with sweat and pre-come. "Good boy, stay just like that for me until I say otherwise." Standing up Connor brings the hand that had just been on Murphy's cock to his mouth. Sucking his fingers clean of Murphy he looks down at the fingers still in his hair.

Pursing his lips Connor tries one more thing to see if Murphy will release him. Raising his right hand he brings it down sharply on Murphy's arse leaving a bright pink palm print behind. Beyond jolting around his cock, Murphy makes no other movement.

Pressing his palms against Murphy's arse Connor slowly starts to pull out of the warmth that is his brother. "God, wish I could stay in you forever Murph." He mutters. As he pulls out he feels Murphy holding tighter. And then, just as his cock pulls free of Murphy's backside Connor begins to feel the pull on his own flesh.

Fuck, groaning he pulled relentlessly getting a shock when Murphy pushed back, not loosening his hold but loosening the pressure. "Gonna hurt Con." Murphy's voice is breathless. He is still aroused.

"Then you know what you should do then fucker, don't you?" Connor doesn't ask to be released again. But he's realising that he can't go slowly and savour the pull, the pain. Murphy is going to keep moving. He has to rip himself from his brother's grip as one rips of a band-aid. "Gonna made me do it fast you fucker."

Murphy laughs, he fucking laughs. "Can't always have what you want brother." He answers.

"But when it comes to you I can, can't I Murph?" Connor questions, leaning in to whisper the question softly in Murphy's ear. He gives it a kiss and a lick smiling when Murphy shivers for him. Making Murphy shiver is a delight he'll never tire of.

Then Connor pulls back bringing Murphy with him. He steps them back a few paces until they're clear of the table. And without warning Connor suddenly shoves his brother forward. Brutally. He yells as he feels the hair on his stomach ripped from him and watches with a certain measure of satisfaction as Murphy careens forward.

His shoulder connects with the doorway into the hall making a sickening crunching sound and Murphy does a ninety degree turn face planting the wall in the hallway before he slides to his knees where he doesn't move.

Connor's hand drops to his hardened cock and he strokes himself through another orgasm as he watches Murphy stay on his knees breathing shallowly and in pain.


	4. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 4

_**Safeword:** In BDSM community, a word (usually irrelevant and strange in the context of the sexual situation) agreed by the participating parties to cease the activity. This is so that the submissive partner(s) can say "stop" and "no" as often as they want during the session and use the safe word when they actually mean it. Via Urban Dictionary for those who are not familiar with BDSM. Because yes, Murphy safewords on Connor._

* * *

Murphy feels his shoulder dislocate. Fuck, it always hurt like a bitch. The bones grate against each other as he breathes shallowly trying to push through the pain. He can't afford this now. Not now. Trying to ignore this pain however was impossible. He could ignore the blood dripping down his face and chest from his nose. But not his shoulder.

Breathing faster as lights flash in his eyes Murphy does his best not to pass out. Fuck, he didn't want to do this to Connor, not tonight, their first night. Fuck. Murphy repeats the word on a litany in his mind as he vaguely hears Connor orgasm again. He can't get his legs under him, every time he tries to move he loses his balance and his shoulder hurts worse.

Then he feels his soul behind him. And as Connor reaches for him Murphy closes his eyes as tears begin to fall. "Rocco." He says. "Rocco."

##########

"Murph?" Connor kneels beside him, his voice tremulous.

"Can't Con, me shoulder is out." Murphy answers through his tears. Tears for Connor, because he can't continue to be there for him tonight. Connor will need to give that bit more, to be there for him just a bit longer.

"Can't." Murphy says again as his tears fall steadily now.

"Murph, no. Don't cry. It's okay." Connor is there, hovering behind Murphy, his vibrations stilling and becoming one long pulse to the centre of Murphy's brain as he reaches out for Murphy. Winding an arm around Murphy's slim waist he pulls him gently to his feet and walks him to the bathroom.

Turning on the light he stands Murphy sideways to the mirror. He knows that seeing himself in the ropes will help Murphy. He's always been fascinated by the intricate ways Connor ties him up.

"There, see how I've tied you up Murph?" Connor asks as he strokes the back of Murphy's hair. "See how pretty you look with your new rope? How the black makes your skin glow? So beautiful Murph, you're so beautiful." All the while as Connor speaks he is wetting a washer and wiping down Murphy's face and pinching off his nose, checking it's not broken. Then, he continues to talks nonsense to Murphy as he looks at himself in the mirror.

His eyes wandering over the rope and the knots Connor spends months practicing on tying on old fishing net. "Make it look like art Con, art." Murphy says. His voice is thin and reedy with pain, barely above a whisper. Connor cleans the rest of Murphy, his neck, chest and his groin, wiping the cool cloth over his softened cock. Kneeling down briefly Connor presses an open-mouthed kiss on the head of Murphy's cock in apology for what he's about to do.

Then he stands and moves to the back of Murphy and looking at him in the mirror he looks into Murphy's eyes. "I'll undo you now Murph, then I'll put it back in yeah?" Murphy presses his lips together as he closes his eyes briefly and nods. Then he opens them and watches as Connor painstakingly undoes each knot and then unwinds the rope from Murphy's biceps.

"So beautiful Con, you make me beautiful." Murphy murmurs in disappointment. Connor smiles.

"You're always beautiful to me Murph, have been always. Always will be, most beautiful thing ever. I've been so blessed to be able to share my life with you, my bed. To wake up with you, no one can care for me like you brother." Connor speaks without thought, from their soul which is where Murphy hears his words.

Through his ears yes, but in their soul. Closing his eyes; the pain threatens to overwhelm him as Connor has to move his arm to get the rope off. Murphy clasps his other hand on the vanity, gripping the sink tightly. He moans as his arm flops uselessly to his side when the rope is finally removed.

And then Connor is there, beside him. His hand moves to Murphy's cheek, palming his sharp cheekbone he turns Murphy to him. Looking at Murphy's pain-clouded eyes he leans in and kisses his brother's lips.

"My beautiful brother." He says softly as his hand moves slowly down to Murphy's collarbone where without warning he pushes, even as his other hand pulls. And as Murphy's eyes roll back in his head in pain and black spots take over as he blacks out, he feels with a stunning sharpness his shoulder snap back into its socket.

Connor catches Murphy as he slides toward the floor. Bending he lifts him easily having done it many times over the years. With familiarity he walks to their bedroom and gently places Murphy down on his side of the bed. The sheets are already turned down. Connor smiles as he realises Murphy had done this before dinner.

Connor moves to his side of the bed and kneels down, sitting with Murphy as he lets his mind settle. He can tell he's still vibrating, though not uncontrollably. He watches Murphy sleep for the longest time. Then he gets up and goes back to the bathroom where he showers and cleans up. He throws a load of washing on knowing from experience that it's best to get ahead of things otherwise Noah will be back and the place will be a mess. He grabs some rags from beneath the kitchen sink and cleans up Murphy's blood in the hall and off the wall and then he wipes down the kitchen table and while he's on a roll he mops the floor of their sweat and come.

Then he brews a pot of tea and knowing that Murphy is swimming to consciousness he makes a hot toddy for him. He's just putting it on the table at Murphy's spot when Murphy comes in having thrown on a pair of sweatpants that hang precariously from his hips as he's not done up the drawstring.

Connor feels need begin to thrum in his blood again as he looks at the other half of his soul. Making a plain cup of tea for himself he sits down opposite Murphy.

"Okay?" He asks knowing full well Murphy is fine. But it's something they always do. It wouldn't be good to get into the habit of not speaking. They'd freak the shit out of people when they went around them otherwise. The only one who'd ever been able to take their silent conversations had been their Ma.

"Will be better when I drink this." Murphy smiles as he blows on his hot toddy and then takes a sip. "How is it you make the best cup of tea Con and you burn water when it comes to making anything food-like?" Connor shakes his head without answering. He's never been able to figure out the answer to that either.

"Need you to rub me down. Gets stiffer every fucking time it happens now." Murphy says.

"You should have the reconstruction, like doctor's say Murph." Connor murmurs knowing Murphy won't. He loathes doctors and hospitals, has done since…Connor's mind shies away from the reason Murphy hates anything medical.

"Can't Con, go insane, you know I would." Murphy answers as he continues to drink, never tasting the sleeping pill Connor has crushed into the drink. Its only one, but combined with the whiskey it'll put him to sleep and let him heal as he never would otherwise still being too preoccupied with Connor himself.

But Connor can hold off for one night. "Sorry Murph." He says quietly without looking at Murphy. He feels Murphy's hand slide across the table and then the stroke of his pale fingers as they wrap around his wrist. They feel his pulse and then move away and flick back at him just as Connor knew they would. He smiles even as he pulls away.

"Bed yeah?" He asks softly, finally looking up at his soul. Murphy nods.

"Go clean your teeth,  
I'll finish my drink and wash up and be in." He nods as Connor stands leaving his mug on the table and walks out of the kitchen. Murphy shakes his head as he watches Connor's bare arse walk away. Man had the finest butt. He could bounce a quarter off of it. He knew because he'd done it once back in America. Smiling Murphy finishes off his doctored tea and grabs Connor's mug as well as his own.

Walking to the sink he shakes his head feeling fuzzy. The penny dropped. "Fucker." He mutters to himself. But he can't really complain. Con knew he wouldn't have taken the pill any other way. Washing their Mugs Murphy wipes them and leaves them by the kettle for their breakfast.

Heading into the bathroom he relieves himself and cleans his own teeth. Standing in front of the mirror again Murphy rotates his shoulder. A slight twinge, but he'd be okay. He had to be, no fucking way was he going to hospital. Before he leaves Murphy looks at the rope Connor has coiled neatly and left on the sink.

Smiling suddenly he picks it up and takes it with him to the bedroom. Moving to Connor's side of the bed he places it on his bedside table and then he walks around to his own side and lies down. After several seconds though Murphy stands and shucks his sweatpants letting them fall to the floor. Then he lies back down again rolling on his side and waiting for Connor to spoon to him.

He hears the snick of the bottle of lube and then he feels Connor's cock at his entrance. Bearing down and pushing back he groans softly as Connor slides home. "Such a fuckin' slut." He whispers to himself.

"No more than I brother." Connor answers.

And it's true, they are sluts for each other. Neither of them have lain with another. From the moment they'd come together as more than brothers they'd both known they'd never lie with anyone else. Neither of them had ever looked at anyone else that way. Neither of them ever would.

Murphy moans slightly as Connor's cock skates across his prostate. He feels Connor move close behind him and then he smells liniment as Connor's hands start to massage his shoulder even as he fucks into him.

"Con," His voice moans his brother's name. He truly is a slut for Connor. Murphy will take Connor anywhere, anytime. He is so used to Connor now he barely needs any preparation. Clenching down he fucks back on Connor's throbbing cock. "Fuck." He mutters as his own hand moves to his hardening erection. Murphy has barely tugged on his own cock when Connor speaks.

"No Murph, you're not to come remember?" Murphy groans.

"Con, no." He's whining, he knows it and he doesn't care. Connor laughs darkly in his ear.

"Fuck no." He answers beginning to thrust harder even as his fingers continue to dig into Murphy's shoulder, warming the skin, loosening the muscles so he'll sleep. "And I still have to punish you too, I haven't forgotten." Connor laughs again as Murphy just moans a protest. "Hmm," he says with humour lacing his voice. "You think you've been punished enough tonight do you?"

Murphy moans a yes. He is so mired in trying not to come he doesn't realise Connor is fully cognizant of the situation. Murphy is concentrating so much on trying not to come so he isn't punished further that he hasn't realised Connor is playing with him again.

"You think you deserve to come do you brother mine?" Connor asks again as his hands slow down on massaging Murphy's shoulder. One moves away and opens the liniment again, squeezing more out. Connor rubs it on his fingers and palms, warming it, making his palm tingle.

"Yes Con, fuck. Yes." Murphy huffs as his cock threatens to explode. His balls have drawn up tight against his body as they try to release. Murphy is strangling the base of his cock to keep his orgasm at bay.

"Think I'm gonna need to be tying you off next time Murph, making sure you can't come until I let you. But for now…" Connor trails off and Murphy whines for him again. "Sound so pretty when you do that Murph, so pretty." Connor's voice is husky, his own balls are drawing up and he knows he's going to come in his brother again tonight. "Beg me Murph, beg me to let you come." Murphy growls and clenches his arse muscles but does no more.

"Please Connor, please let me come. Make me come brother. I love you, make me come." Connor grins, Murphy's asking him to make him come fell right into his hands.

"You want me to make you come brother?" He asks with a grin that Murphy would immediately back away from, but he cannot see Connor's face.

"Yes, Con, yes." Murphy pushes his whole body back onto Connor now. He's feeling the effects of his whiskey and the sleeping tablet. All his reactions are slower, more relaxed. Less frenetic.

And so Connor wraps his hand around Murphy's cock. He strokes softly up and down it, rubbing in the liniment. It takes several strokes before Murphy realises what Connor has used. The heat on his cock grows indescribably, hotter and hotter.

"Fuck, Con, you fucker." Murphy tries unsuccessfully to pull away. His body breaks out in a sweat as his cock burns, the friction incredible. The heat more so. His balls are drawing up further and suddenly Murphy realises he's going to come, despite the pain on his cock he's going to come. "Fuck, Con, gonna come." He says as he finds himself pushing into Connor's hand now. Seeking the heat, seeking the friction. The painful burn. Connor's hand tightens incredibly as he jerks Murphy off hard and fast now, his hand twists a little on the upstroke.

His thumb strokes over the head of Murphy's cock and he gets an idea that makes an absolutely feral smile crawl across his face. "Gonna fuck you with lube Murph, tomorrow maybe the next day. Gonna fuck you with it and when I fuck this," Connor punctuates his words with his thumb flicking into the slit on the head of Murphy's cock, "I'm gonna use liniment too. Gonna make you burn so good brother."

His words are too much for Murphy's abused senses. His orgasm explodes from him, Connor's hand catching his come and using it as lube too, his semen somehow making his cock burn more. "Fuuccckkkk…' The word is drawn out as his balls finally empty and he stops fucking Connor's hand. He only vaguely feels Connor fuck himself into his arse a few more times before he feels heat flood him from the inside.

"I'll never get sick of that Con, never." Murphy says as he pushes back into Connor's arms. He clenches down on Connor when he goes to withdraw. "No Con, don't leave me." Connor pushes back up against him.

Ignoring his burning cock Murphy allows his body to relax back into Connor. He keeps his muscles tight around Connor's cock even as he drifts off to sleep.

Connor lays behind Murphy the rest of the night. He feels calmer, more centered. He's not completely there yet, but he will be by the time Noah gets back. Lying behind Murphy he lets his mind wander as he usually doesn't when Noah is home. He thinks of what he wants to be able to do with Murphy, what he'd love to do to him daily if they lived on their own.

Sometimes Connor wants nothing more than to slit Noah's throat and throw him in the bog over on the German's land two farms over. But, Noah was blood. He wasn't blood Connor had a lot of feeling for yet, but he was blood. Still. Connor resolved that when Noah returned he'd speak to him. Noah had to accept them or leave or they'd leave. These past years was more than enough time for Noah to come to some level of acceptance, if not understanding.

Connor himself didn't understand how Noah could go to prison and not keep in contact with his wife and sons. Their Ma had never recovered from Noah's abandonment.

Sighing Connor slowly pulls out of the warm cavern of his brother's body. He places a wet kiss on Murphy's exposed shoulder and tucks the bedding around him more securely. Then he stands and dresses himself in jeans, socks and a flannel shirt.

Putting his boots on at the door he moves out into the pre-dawn. Connor does their daily jobs with the animals on autopilot. He knows when Murphy wakes and gets up feeling his mind click back into place alongside his own. He grins when Murphy swears at him.

Finishing with the animals Connor heads back inside. He takes off his boots but doesn't clean them. As he moves down the hall he strips off his clothes and when he gets to the bathroom he is already naked. He steps into the tub with Murphy, reaching immediately to shampoo Murphy's hair as Murphy is still feeling stiff.

"I'll put more liniment on when we get out." Connor says as he drops a kiss on Murphy's smiling lips. Murphy merely grunts an agreement.

As Connor soaps Murphy down he feels Murphy's hands clean him in return. Fingers sliding, probing. Before Murphy can get the better of him however Connor kneels down and takes Murphy's cock into his mouth. He sucks laughing lightly at Murphy's moan. He opens his eyes to star up at Murphy as he stars down at him, their eyes are blue now, both looking at each other, lost in their love.

Sinking down, Connor slowly takes Murphy to the hilt, when he has all of Murphy inside his mouth Connor moans around his cock. And he swallows as Murphy comes. He continues to moan so Murphy feel's his throat vibrating on his cock. Connor smiles as Murphy jerks in his mouth.

Pulling off slowly he nurses on the head of Murphy's cock, his tongue pushes into the slit and he suck the last drops of Murphy's come and swallows throatily. As he stands slowly his knee cracks. Shaking his head Connor smiles.

"Never get enough of you Murph, never." He says as his hands move to cup Murphy's face. Looking at him, his lashes wet with water and his hair pushed back off his face. The beard just starting to grow in. Connor watches Murphy's eyes darken, as he knows his own are darkening.

Their soul stretches and bares its teeth. It's hungry for more. "More Con." Murphy answers.

"More Murph." Connor agrees. "Get the rope." He orders.


	5. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 5

Noah showers the crud of working in the garden off himself as he wonders what if anything Murphy and Connor have done at the farm. He knew when he wasn't there and Murphy was…seeing to Connor they did the bare minimum. He almost always came home to a messy kitchen and living area.

The animals they usually managed to keep up though, which was something to be thankful for he guessed. Not that he had much to really be thankful for. He wonders if he should phone and check on them. More than likely they wouldn't answer, they never had before. Still, it was something to think about.

In the kitchen he and Father Jamison, or Michael as he calls him during these visits talk amiably but Noah almost feels Murphy and Connor's intimacy reaching out and wrapping around him like a shroud. He downs his whiskey in one shot and sees Michael's eyebrows raise.

"Sorry Father, something on my mind." Michael merely nods and continues to cook dinner. Noah's mood worsens with that understanding nod.

"How do you cope Michael, when someone confesses something bad, something that is gut churning, something that makes you physically sick with the shock of it?" He asks abruptly.

"Something bad Noah?" Father Jamison questions him.

"Aye Michael, something…something heinous." Noah answers.

Watching, Noah sees Michael switch off the stove leaving dinner. He takes the whiskey from the top shelf and brings it to the table. He pours another one for Noah and one for himself as he sits down. Then leaving the bottle between them he looks at Noah as he takes a sip.

"I want to tell you a story Noah. Some years ago the Priest three parishes over passed away, the church was having trouble transferring another into his place, so I and the other's had to alternate Sunday's with the village. Every three Sunday's I'd be there. Every three Sunday's I'd see a woman and her sons."

"They spoke to few, the mother. Well to be blunt she always stank of whiskey, it literally oozed out of her pores every Sunday, I'm sure she could have peeled paint. Her sons were quiet in church though I'd had occasion to see them around at other times and I knew they were anything but. And they were close with each other, very close."

"As time went by I slowly saw the fair-haired one become ill. Moody, withdrawn, twitchy. When one of the other priests had to take over another parish I was there every other Sunday so saw them even more. Some Sunday's the fair-haired one was so out of he was like a zombie. And it was then that the dark-haired one was at his worst as well."

"I began to realise the brothers had a bond that I'd never seen before, it was almost a mind meld. They literally felt each other's thoughts and feelings and when one brother was so medicated because of some mental illness some well-meaning doctor said he suffered from, the other was in essence medicated as well." Michael pauses taking another sip. Noah simply stares at him.

"You know." He says quietly. Michael looks at him and ignoring Noah's statement he continues.

"The issue with finding a priest took some time, a few years actually. All the while I was treated to the slow mental degradation of these brothers. At confession my heart broke for them, confessing their fear and terror for each other, never themselves, always each other, their fear for each other's very lives. Eventually the church found a priest and I no longer had to journey to the village. And though it wasn't easy, over time I managed to put them from my mind for fear of sending myself insane."

"About three years after that I was visiting a hospital one day as is part of my job when I came across a mental patient trying to escape, he was screaming, yelling, incoherent really. He did nothing but scream for his brother. It took me several minutes to recognise him as the fair-haired brother from the village. He was so different, emaciated, weighing little more than a child though he was fully grown by then I believe." Stopping for another sip of whiskey Michael watches Noah, his breathing is heavy, erratic and loud in the room. He watches Noah, makes sure he is fit to hear the rest of his tale.

"I tried to talk to him, of course I tried. Unsuccessfully. But I did one thing. I contacted his brother. His brother came the very next day, skipping school. His mother in her wisdom I'm sure she thought had not told the dark-haired brother where the fair-haired one was. I took him to visit and the change in the fair-haired one was remarkable. And so I did something against the church in that I disobeyed a parent's will. I abetted the dark-haired brother in seeing his fair-haired brother."

"Together we researched and planned and somehow we managed to get the fair-haired one released, the dark-haired on had found a job nearby and a hovel to live in. I wasn't able to help financially you see. When the fair-haired one was released things were okay for a few months and then he went off his meds. But the brunette wouldn't have him committed again. He kept insisting there had to be a way for them to cope, to live without medication."

"When their mother found them, things did not go well. But somehow they managed to get her to leave them be. And so I watched, visited when I could, heard the dark-haired ones confessions and over time the fair-haired ones. They were very regular at church, it centred, them. Gave them hope. And then one day, something happened. I don't know what but whatever it was, it changed their relationship and it changed them."

"Irrevocably and somehow for the better." For months the fair-haired one was happy, even-tempered, he helped people, he laughed Noah. That got me the most. He laughed." Michael stops for another sip.

"And then one day the bottom dropped out of my world. The dark-haired brother confessed that he had sexual relations with his brother. That it had happened one night by accident after a fight and that they had both ignored it for months, barely having any contact before it happened again. He said that he felt damned because he felt in the very marrow of his bones that it was right. 'Meant to be' was his phrase." Taking a final sip of his whiskey Michael pours another and tops up Noah's glass as well.

"I felt dirty, angry. So very angry. And I was angry at the fair-haired brother more than anything. For he did not confess. It took me a very long time to realise that in his eyes it was not a sin. And one does not confess that which they believe is not a sin. Eventually they both spoke to me about it at some length, trying to see why they felt they almost had to be with each other. Was it wrong to get such pleasure? How could the fact that they felt each other when they made love be wrong? They felt each other's mind through their shared soul."

"And it was that more than anything along with the fact that when I pinpointed their relationship evolving to the mental stabilising of the fair-haired brother. I must admit it took me some months to adjust not to mention many hours of prayer to our Lord. But I made my peace with them. Because I love them, and I firmly believe that God loves them as well. They are angels of God Noah, angels of God. And you know that God already sees all and knows all."

Noah shakes his head as he feels his heart literally break for Murphy and Connor. Michael gets up and switches on the stove again, standing in front of it he reflectively finishes his whiskey.

"Do you know what Connor does to Murphy Michael?" Noah asks.

"I do Noah, I do. I've researched it as has Murphy. He didn't go into it blind when that part of their sexuality became obvious. It's a need Connor has. Having complete and total control allows him peace of mind that nothing else does. He's very lucky he has someone in his life who trusts him to be that vulnerable with them." Michael answers. He turns the meat as it begins to sizzle in the pan again.

"Does Annabelle know?" Noah asks now.

"That I do not know Noah. I have never asked her and she has never mentioned it. Though if I'm to be honest, we are not close. Not as I am with Murphy and Connor."

And there Noah has his confirmation that Michael was indeed talking about Murphy and Connor, not some other brothers.

"So you don't think it heinous then Michael?" Noah pushes his point, pushes what he feels onto Michael, or tries to.

"No Noah, I do not. I see the love they have for each other, the depth of their devotion and I see nothing more. If only all couples could feel for each other what Murphy and Connor do then the world would be a better and healthier place." Michael finishes their dinner and plates it. Bringing them to the table he puts Noah's in front of him though he has no appetite.

Before Michael can say grace Noah speaks the one thing he never thought he'd say to anyone. Ever.

"I've wanted to end them since I found out." Michael looks at Noah sadly.

"Oh Noah, how I pity you." He says before he bows his head and says grace.

Feeling fury well up inside him Noah pushes back from the table violently. He is shaking in rage.

"You pity me? Me? I who can end you with a flick of my hand? You pity me? You dare?" Noah is around the table standing over Michael who doesn't move and begins to eat. Between mouthfuls he answers Noah.

"Yes Noah, I pity you. Having been through the worst that is Connor do you really think you scare me? Yes you can murder me, a defenseless man in rage and where will that get you? Nowhere. You need to accept what Murphy and Connor are to each other and only then will you find peace. You've had no peace all these years Noah, don't you realise that you need it? More than that, don't you realise you want it?" Michael continues his dinner as Noah stands over him. Ignoring him.

"You remind me of Murphy." He says before he thinks. And he realises his anger is ebbing, leaving him raw and empty. For some reason he is not surprised when Michael laughs at him.

"Considering the strength of your son, I take that as nothing but a compliment Noah." As Noah moves to sit down again Michael stands and takes up his own plate. He begins to do the dishes as Noah finally eats his dinner.

Drying the dishes for Michael as usual Noah broods. "I can't like it." He says baldly out of the blue.

"You don't have to, I would only say you have to accept their love for each other is complete and absolute and think nothing more of it. So you see things sometimes, so do we all Noah, so do we all." Noah nods with Michael's words.

"Father?" He asks quietly as he hangs up the tea towel.

"Yes my child." Michael answers, sensing perhaps that Noah needs the formality.

"Will you hear my confession?"

"Of course." Michael watches as Noah kneels there in the kitchen and closes his eyes.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned, it has been five days since my last confession…" And as soft rain begins to patter on the roof, Michael hears Noah's confession. The confession that lightens his soul. The confession that the flesh of his flesh feast on each other and he is beginning to accept it.

As he readies for bed later that evening Noah looks at the phone but he doesn't pick it up. They wouldn't answer anyway.


	6. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 6

Murphy stares at himself in the bathroom mirror. He stretches his shoulder, it's all good. The past few days Connor had rubbed it in the morning and night. Raising and tilting his head Murphy looks at the bites and bruises on his neck before he shakes his head. Fucker.

He feels Connor laugh at him from outside as he did the animals. Walking naked to the kitchen he boils the kettle for tea and starts about making breakfast. He has bacon, sausages and eggs ready by the time Connor comes back in. He lets Connor dish up as he goes and pegs out the load of washing he'd put on when he got up.

"Doing a good job of keeping the place up this time brother." He says when he comes back inside and sits down to eat.

Connor grunts at him as he eats. Murphy sips his tea, he feels Connor's vibrations. They're less this morning, nearly non-existent but still there. Today should take care of them, they know. Deliberately Murphy holds off on his breakfast until Connor has nearly finished his and then he begins to eat.

Frowning at him Connor shakes his head and gets up from the table heading to the bedroom. "Make the bed Con will you?" He asks after him with a grin.

"Fuck off." Connor answers.

"Someone got out of bed the wrong side this morning, anyone would think you'd been fucked with liniment brother." Murphy laughs out loud as he feels and hears Connor's swearing at him. The next minute however as he feels the sudden glee flow through their soul he realises what he'd said. "Fuck." He mutters to himself.

Swallowing his unease Murphy continues to eat his breakfast, slow and steady. He knows Connor is waiting for him and he knows Connor won't come looking for him. He's of the mind today that Murphy will come to him. Murphy felt it when he got up, it was why he'd put washing on, why he'd done a cooked breakfast, why he'd not started eating until Connor had finished.

He was testing Connor, drawing out the anticipation. For Murphy would always go to Connor, he'd just never do so immediately. Standing as he finishes his breakfast, Murphy takes their plates to the sink. Then he washes up. Still puttering in the kitchen he suddenly feels a pull from Connor.

Connor was using their link to pull Murphy to him. Murphy grinned to himself as he ignored the pull. He decided to make lunch so he made some sandwiches and put them on a plate in the fridge, then he cleaned up again. Then standing at the sink, looking out at their clothes billowing in the wind he opened himself to Connor.

Connor's want and need and desire. He knew Connor was holding the rope, waiting for him.

And just when Connor's patience was fraying to the point of danger, Murphy turned and sauntered into the bedroom. Rolling his eyes Connor looked him over.

"Took your fuckin' time Murph." He says testily.

"Well you know what they day brother?" Murphy answers as he goes to stand before Connor waiting to be told where Connor wants him.

"No Murph," Connor answers knowing full well what Murphy's about to say. "What do they say?"

Murphy grins at him wickedly. "Anticipation of the moment is better than the moment itself and all that shit." He laughs at Connor's face and Connor shakes his head.

"Fucker." He points. "On your knees Murphy MacManus."

Kneeling Murphy looks up at Connor with a smile, his eyes shining blue in the daylight coming in from the window. "Gonna make me look pretty Con?"

"No Murph," Connor answers. "Gonna make you look beautiful." Murphy's smile is blinding.

Connor throws the rope over Murphy's neck and then crosses it at his breastbone. Then he loops it around Murphy's back and brings it back where he crosses it over his navel. He repeats the process moving back up Murphy's body and then he loops it over Murphy's bicep, first one then the other.

Then he ties it off and loops the rope over Murphy's elbows and ties it off and then Murphy's wrists, making him lace his hands together as it praying first. Sitting back he lets Murphy stand and go look at himself in the mirror in the bathroom. He lies down on the bed and strokes his cock letting it rise and fill as he waits for Murphy to come back.

When Murphy comes back in his eyes are shining. Connor smiles. He gently rubs a hand over the trail of hair going down from his navel to his groin. He smiles when he feels the bare patches from where Murphy had torn it out. He sees Murphy's cock beginning to fill as well and that reminds him.

Sitting up again he gestures to Murphy who comes to stand beside him on the bed. Connor reaches over for something he'd made and holds it up for Murphy who frowns. "Con?"

Connor smiles and then taking up the liniment he opens it and rubs it on the string of black fiber he'd made from thinning some of the rope Murphy had purchased for him. Rubbing it along he then reaches under Murphy's bound hands and slides it around his cock and balls. Then he jerks it tight making Murphy jump and flinch.

"Told you I was making a cock ring brother. Need to make sure you don't come before you're told to, don't need more punishment now do you?" Connor questions him softly. Murphy stills realising the zone Connor was in.

And Connor smiles as he sees Murphy swallow. Anyone else would think he was afraid, but Connor knew, he knew Murphy was swallowing in anticipation. "Kneel brother." Connor orders Murphy.

Murphy kneels. "Suck my cock, lick my hole." Connor says to him brusquely.

He brings his feet up onto the bed and lets them fall to the side, opening himself for his brother's mouth and tongue. "No hands." He finishes and hears and feels Murphy's huff of displeasure. Murphy has always been tactile.

He feels breath on him and then Murphy's tongue slides over his hole, Connor feels himself open and present to Murphy and smiles at the groan Murphy gives. Murphy loves him doing that for him. And Connor loves doing what Murphy loves. They've used each other so much that Connor quite often dilates like this just from a look Murphy gives him across the room.

Not that he'll tell Murphy that of course, the fucker would be looking sexily at him every chance he could, just to tease Connor.

But for now, he loves being on display like this for Murphy, more so when Murphy is under his command. Connor closes his mind and allows himself to feel. Murphy's breath, his mouth. And his tongue, pressing and winding inside him like a snake, slithering in and out wetly. Connor raises his hips, fucking himself on Murphy's strong wet tongue.

"Fuck Murph, fuck." He says. And then Murphy slides his mouth up to Connor's cock and sucks him down, his tongue twists over the bottom vein as he slides Connor in and out of his mouth. Connor moans again. He feels Murphy's teeth come into play as he nips at the sensitive underside of his cock, firm with just the faintest hint of pain. Just the way he liked.

"Take me in brother." Connor says as he feels his balls draw up. He slides a hand down pushing fingers inside Murphy's mouth beside his cock. Murphy moans in protest for what this means but Connor ignores him. He pulls them out, saliva dripping all over them as he hooks his hand under his leg and pushes his fingers into his own hole.

"No Murphy, I told you, your mouth only brother." He answer Murphy's question before he asks it. He grins down at Murphy who frowns up at him even as he has Connor's cock in his mouth. Groaning deliberately loudly as he fucks himself on his fingers Connor can't help the smirk that crosses his face as Murphy blows him and tries to look at Connor's own fingers inside himself.

He knew Murphy loved to fuck him with his fingers as he blew him. And he knew that as much as Murphy protested he also got off on watching Connor fuck himself. "Should get a dildo or something Murph, love to fuck myself on that while you watch, then you could suck it clean and I'd use it on you." Connor groans at the moan of approval Murphy gives.

The vibrations wrap around his cock and he comes down Murphy's throat as he feels his hole spasm around himself. Murphy swallows him all down and then cleans him up. When he moves off Connor's cock however, he's pouting. As Connor knew he would be.

"Fuck Con, why couldn't I fuck you?" He asked with irritation. Connor laughed.

"Because my dear brother, you're not in charge." He sits up and leans over kissing Murphy. He moans as he tastes himself in Murphy's mouth, his tongue seeks it out and he swallows it. Murphy moans and pushes into him, opening himself more for Connor.

Breaking away Connor takes a handful of Murphy's hair in his hands and pulls on it. He looks down into the face he loves more than life itself. Holding Murphy there for a few minutes He pushes him away slightly then rolls back and off the other side of the bed.

"On the bed brother, on your knees, present that arse for me now." Connor says as he stands and stretches. He feels fucking good. Murphy's blow job had taken his edge off. Murphy crawled up on the bed, deliberately stretching himself out for Connor, taking his time getting settled, making sure Connor saw every stretch, breath and move.

Fucker turned so his arse was toward Connor and then he spread his knees giving Connor the perfect view. Connor smiles as he sees Murphy's hole opening for him. Murphy couldn't present like he could but they were both so used he could push himself open.

Shaking his head he leans forward slapping a cheek soundly. "Dirty fucker." He feels Murph's laugh in his mind. And then he grabs up the liniment, it's become his new favourite friend this week. He glides it on Murphy's arse, warming it for what was about to come. All the while his eyes are on Murphy and the ropes binding him.

Then, feeling wicked Connor swipes the last of the liniment over Murphy's hole. A minute or so later Murphy groans. "Connor, you fuck." Connor laughs. He picks up the belt he'd put on his bedside table and then stands up.

Snapping the belt he then laid it across Murphy's backside making him jolt. As his backside heats more with the strap and the liniment Murphy moans. Connor looks between his legs, oh he liked that he did. Murph's cock was hard and dropping pre-come on the bed sheet.

"No coming now remember Murph." Connor reminds him as he lays another strap across his backside.

"Get fucked you fucking fucker." Murphy moans at him making Connor laugh. And then he lays the belt across Murphy's pre-warmed backside again. Smacking Murphy he worked up a sweat and another erection. He'd taken the edge off with Murphy blowing him before so he could take his time now. But Murphy was responding so prettily that by his responses alone he was bringing Connor on again faster than he expected.

Hearing Murphy's moans and groans of protest Connor continues to smack the belt on him sharply several more times. Then he stops and looks at Murphy. Bound and trussed up, his pale skin glowing with sweat and liniment and now his backside red with being spanked he was a beautiful sight.

Connor leaned over and kissed Murphy's backside. As he drew away he felt his lips tingle. And that gave him an idea. He'd told Murphy he was going to do it after all. Pursing his lips he looked between Murphy's legs again.

Yep, fucker was even harder now if that were possible. To forestall Murphy's inevitable protests he grabs their lube and drizzles some on Murphy's hole and pushes his fingers inside, making sure Murphy is ready for him, he's not going to be gentle this time.

"You up for this Murph?" He questions softly as he withdraws his fingers and swipes them over his cock before he opens a tube again.

"Yes Connor, fuck me already." Murphy demands of him. Connor laughs.

"And what if I don't let you come brother? Do you still want me to fuck you?"

"Yes Connor, just get fucking inside me right fucking now!" Connor laughs and it is only when Murphy starts to rise up that he pushes him down.

"Hold your horses Murph, let me get wet for you yeah?" Murphy lies down on the bed again, shifting and spreading his knees for Connor.

"Fuck me arse burns Connor." He says in a disgruntled way.

"I'd be worried about it brother if you weren't dripping yourself all over our sheets, gonna have to change 'em after this you know." He hears Murphy snort at him.

And then he slicks up his cock and closes the tube. Oh fuck, that burned. But it was a burn Connor relished. He moved between Murphy's spread knees and pushed inside without pause. And then his hands grasped Murphy's hips. He waits, gritting his teeth for the resulting explosion.

When it comes Connor begins fucking Murphy, his hips holding him, bruising him like he'd done all week. He laughs and groans as Murphy curses him to hell and back before he subsides and his protests turn as Connor knew they would to moans for more. Pleading for more.

"You want to come brother?" Connor asks Murphy as he fucks his brother's arse long and slow.

"I do Con, want you to make me come brother." Connor smiles. Murphy knows just what to say to get his way. One of these days he knew he'd deny himself just for the hell of it.

"Say please Murph." Connor answers him.

"Please Con, please brother, make me come, let me come on your cock, please Con."

"Oh so pretty, you beg so pretty Murph, so fine and pretty. How could I refuse you after you beg for me so pretty?" Connor says as he fucks Murphy hard and fast, reaching for his orgasm and making Murphy wait for his answer. Because he knows Murphy knows that he hasn't yet given his permission.

"I'm going to come now Murph, going to fill you with come and then I'll think about whether you should come." The burn from the liniment was driving Connor crazy now. He felt both hold and cold and the skin on his cock was super sensitive. He _needed_ to come.

And if this was how his cock felt, how the fuck did Murphy feel on the inside? Burning with the need to know Connor lets himself come, his balls drawing up and emptying inside Murphy's arse. Then he withdraws, seeing the come spill out he wants nothing more than to eat it from Murphy but he wants something else more.

Ignoring Murphy's protests and curses He grabs the liniment again and then swipes it over Murphy's cock. "Shut it, you're gonna fuckin' come alright?" He says to Murphy as he began to whine at Connor.

"The fuck, Con?" Murphy asks him with anger boiling in his beautiful eyes.

Connor pulls him up and lies down himself. He pushes Murphy until he's between Murphy's legs and then he looks up at Murphy.

"Fuck me and come, leave the ring on until you're ready to come, I want you to make this last brother. make me burn, make me need the burn." He sees Murphy swallow and he sees the jerk his cock gives in anticipation.

"Con?" Murphy questions him, "You're sure?" Connor merely nods. And he watches without surprise the feral look that crosses his brother's face. Connor knows he's in for a fucking. A rough fucking and he relishes the thought of it.

"Wanna see your rosebud before I do." Murphy says out of the blue. Connor raise an eyebrow.

"You want to see me rosebud Murph?" Murphy nods, lips pressed together. Rolling his eyes Connor complies and allows his hole to present again for Murphy, it would have happened anyway but he'd almost always do what Murphy asked.

"So pretty Con," Murphy brings his bound hands forward, shuffling himself forward as he rubs a finger over Connor's rosebud. And then he lines his cock up and pushes inside in a single movement.

"Fuck." He said as Connor's back arched. His moan said everything. "This is gonna be something you're gonna want to do regular-like now Con isn't it?" Murphy asks him plaintively

Connor cannot answer. He is too focused on the burn of pleasure in his backside. Fuck that felt like nothing on earth. Hot and cold, ice and burn. Friction. Friction that was driving him out of his mind. His hand grasped his own cock already getting hard again.

"Kinky fucker." Murphy says to him as he fucks him hard and fast reaching for his own orgasm. Connor clenches down on Murphy making him moan.

"There's my baby brother." He says even as he moans again. Fuck that was good. "Yes, Murph, more. Harder, make me feel it like you make me feel nothing else brother." He says.

He feels Murphy's cock swell inside him and his own jerks feebly in response. He's going to come again, not a lot, but he'll come. As he sees Murphy's bound hands grasp the tie on his cock ring and release it Connor feels Murphy explode inside him and his own cock release again as well.

God, the burn, the heat. Connor knew Murphy was right, he was going to need this on a regular basis now. It felt too good.

Connor felt his vibrations lessen and almost fade away. He smiled. He felt Murphy smile with him as he realised it as well. And they both felt their soul shake off its pleasure and settle down, sated for the time being like Connor and Murphy were.


	7. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 7

_Years ago…_

Murphy wakes to stillness. Something isn't right. Usually he'd feel Connor there, with him in his mind. Where is he? He stands and checks their room. Connor isn't in it. He moves to the bathroom in the hall. Nothing. Toilet, nothing. Downstairs and beginning to worry for feeling his absence in his mind more than anything Murphy moves quickly through the kitchen, lounge room and laundry. Nothing.

_Con? The fuck are you?_ He questions silently.

_Outside Murph_. Comes his answer, faintly. That worried Murphy more than anything. Heedless that he's not dressed Murphy moves outside. He goes to their backyard and down to the small shed that keeps their old bikes and what few garden tools they have along with the lawnmower.

"Con, the fuck?" He questions out loud when he sees Connor shivering in the corner, crouched as if to ward off blows, his arms wrapped around his drawn up knees.

"Voices Murph, wouldn't stop." Connor is shivering as Murphy squats beside him and draws him in.

"Shh, Con. I've got you now. Shh brother." Murphy hugs Connor to him and strokes his messy hair back off his face. Not for the first time he wishes Connor would cut it, his 'surfer boy' look that he was trying to achieve didn't do anything other than hide his beautiful eyes from Murphy. "There now, Con. Let them go, I've got you now." Murphy continues murmuring to Connor. His words make no sense, but it's not the words he's speaking that Connor listens to anyway.

_There, Con. I've got you. You'll be okay, turn them off brother, you can do it I know you can._ What Murphy never said out loud or otherwise was that Connor had to turn them off or Ma would have him back to the doctor quicker than they could blink. And neither of them wanted that. Though Murphy for purely selfish reasons.

He begins to sing to Connor, nursery rhymes mostly. He's never had a gift for remembering song lyrics like Connor did. After a time Connor calms enough that Murphy can help him stand and get back into the house and up to bed. They needed their rest,  
tomorrow or rather today was a big day for them both. They were sixteen now, or would be around ten pm that night anyway. Their Ma was a stickler for not letting them say how old they were until the time she'd given birth was past.

Weird, Murphy knew. In his darkest moments he wondered just how much of their Ma Con had in him. More than they thought he reckoned. Their idiosyncrasies were too similar sometimes. Both were left-handed, both couldn't sit with their back to a doorway. Neither could go to bed without making the damn thing, even to the point of remaking it if they'd made it that morning.

And the way Ma muttered when she thought she was on her own made Murphy think she heard voices sometimes too. Maybe her drinking was her way of drowning them out. But Con couldn't and wouldn't drink like that every day. And the pills doctors kept shoving at him did nothing but muffle he and Murphy's connection making them both unable to function.

Annabelle couldn't convince the doctors that they had a telepathic bond and they were both grateful in a way. If someone was convinced Murphy had no doubt be medicated too.

Murphy helps Connor into the bathroom, dawn was breaking so neither of them would go back to bed. He waits while Connor showers and then strips and gets in after he's finished. As he washes he keeps an eye on Connor as he dries himself and cleans his teeth and shaves. They both need to shave a couple of times a week now but no more. Neither of them are overly hairy on their torsos nor face though their arms and legs have a fair amount of hair.

His heart quakes as he sees Connor pause several times as if listening to something. Murphy feels him searching for something that is not him. Fuck. Shoving his fear down he quickly rinses his hair and gets out. He needs to keep Connor as occupied as he can until he forgets the voices for the time being.

Murphy feels a slight vibration at the back of his own skull and closes his eyes. "No." He says softly. "Fuck, no." He gets out and dries off quickly feeling the vibration escalate. "No," He repeats the word over and over even as the vibration begins to batter at his own skull, spiking into his brain making him flinch.

"Con," He says urgently taking hold of his brother. Connor curls in on himself even as he collapses. "Connor!" Murphy yells now as he lowers him to the ground. "Ma! Get the fuck in here!" He calls. He continues to call Connor over and over in his mind.

_Connor, where the fuck are you? Come back to me brother, I need you. I love you Connor. Come back to me now, I'm nothing without you brother, come back to me now, come back._ Murphy rocks Connor's shuddering form, back and forth.

Cursing himself for ignoring the vibrations when he'd felt them a week ago, he drags his jeans to him and somehow squirms into them while never letting go of Connor, always keeping him supported even just with his own shoulders as he zipped, buttoned and buckled up.

Annabelle takes one look and is off down the stairs, her hair like a rat's nest. Something else she and Connor shared, horror-like bed head hair in the mornings. Hugging Connor now Murphy let's his tears fall. A sharp slap on his shoulder brings him back to himself.

"Speak Murphy, ambulance will be here soon." Annabelle says having gotten the message years ago about Murphy and Connor's silent conversations. It didn't bother her but she knew like they did that it bothered others.

"Aye Ma." Murphy's words verbalise even as he hears their front door open. The ambulance officers were used to coming by here now he knew. These past few years they had had to far too often. Murphy lets them put Connor on the stretcher and he keeps hold of his hand moving downstairs awkwardly and out into the ambulance not letting go of him all the while.

At the hospital Murphy is forced away from Connor, sometime later he feels Annabelle shove more clothes at him and only then he realises he'd not put on anything other than his jeans. He sits to put on his socks and boots and then pulls on a t-shirt and thick jumper pulling the sleeves down over his hands as he always does. Annabelle had deliberately started knitting the arms longer allowing for that so Murphy didn't wreck the line of any of their jumpers, he and Connor traded clothes back and forth without even thinking about it most of the time.

He sees Annabelle and the doctor's talking and walks toward them, they turn to him and the look of anxiety on his mother's face makes Murphy's heart beat faster. "Ma?" He questions her as he stops in front of them. He gets a shock when he realises that he towers over his mother now. Both he and Con had had a growth spurt a few months ago both topping out at five feet eleven.

"Murphy, let me take you home, we'll be back in the morning." Annabelle takes him and forces him out of the hospital physically, that she's his mother is the only thing that stops Murphy from being physically forceful in return. He'd never subscribed to Connor's 'can't hit a female' belief. If the woman was hell-bent on harming him, fuck if he was going to let her. No fucking way.

Murphy storms up the stairs and flings himself on his bed. Sometime later his mother comes in and puts their presents on Connor's bed. She briefly touches Murphy's shoulder before leaving him alone with his thoughts. He hears the front door open and voices below but no one comes up thank fuck. Rolling over and getting up Murphy looks at the presents. One large box each. He opens Connor's trying for their link as hard as he can.

He is unsuccessful. Feeling only a buzzing and the constant vibration. Staccato and harsh it's making him nauseous. He looks at the coat in front of him. He knows his will be the same. Pea coats. And they'll be identical. His mother gave up when they were ten trying to get them to wear different shit because they looked different.

Murphy and Connor may look different, but they were one soul and identical on the inside. They often said to each other they could wear the other's skin and feel all was right in the world. Annabelle had had a shit fit when she'd heard them saying that so they'd not mentioned it anymore when others were around.

As the weeks pass Murphy becomes more despondent. The drug regimen they put Connor on this time take his whole mind. About a month after Connor had been taken he is brought home a zombie. He functions. But he is not _there_. Murphy's heart is breaking. And he knows any minute part of Connor that is still conscious is breaking as well. They're not together, they need to be together.

Several months after Connor is home the doctor's start to scale back his medication trying to find the right dosage. And about three weeks after that Murphy wakes one morning to see Connor sitting on his bed holding his pea coat in his arms, cradling it like it was a baby. He watches mutely as tears fall from Connor's eyes and land on the coat.

_'M back Murph._ Connor says silently. _How long was I gone brother?_ He questions without looking up. Murphy takes a few minutes to feel Connor in his brain again. He settles as their minds slide against each other and link up again. The vibrations are gone for the time being and his Con was back. Murphy also felt the constant headache he'd been living with in the vacant space of his mind since Connor had been taken away recede and finally disappear as well. His ears popped.

_Nearly a year this time Con, don't know how much more I can take, miss you too much, always think they're never gonna let you off the drugs and I'll lose you for good._ Murphy is across the room and in Connor's arms. They hug each other frantically, rocking back and forth all the while. _I'll die if that happens Con, you know I will._

_I know Murph, sometimes though. Sometimes it's just too strong, I can't keep it out and it nearly drive me insane. I'd give anything not to do that to you Murph, do anything._ Murphy and Connor hug for some time, getting used to each other again. Their conversation is silent though the words never stop. They have a lot to make up for.

Murphy helped Connor catch up on their schoolwork properly. They were set to graduate this year and both couldn't wait. They wanted and needed to be away from everything and despite Annabelle's refusal had saved enough money to get their passports when they were eighteen. They were going to travel whether she wanted them to or not.

##########

It took Annabelle a few days to realise that they were communicating silently again and she rejoiced even as her heart broke. She knew as Murphy did that Connor's return like this was the beginning of his end again. Sometime soon he would stop functioning and be taken away. This time though, he'd be taken away permanently.

Annabelle was beside herself, knowing what she had given approval for. It was going to kill Connor she knew, but after time had passed hopefully Murphy would be better, get on with his life. God knows she loved them both but sacrificing Connor for Murphy to have a better life was something that needed to be done. She couldn't lose him too. He would waste his life on Connor otherwise.

They manage to have their seventeenth birthday without any trouble and time passes, more than before. Annabelle finds something sprouting in her that hasn't been there for some time. Hope.

Then several weeks later it is dashed as she walks into the kitchen to see Murphy crouching in front of Connor as he cowered in the corner near the pantry, eyes getting more vacant by the second.

Stepping out Annabelle calls the number she'd memorised so as not to alert Murphy by recording it anywhere and then she stands in the doorway and watches. She wonders if Murphy will ever forgive her. Deflecting Murphy was going to be hard. When they arrive she manages to get Murphy to let Connor go long enough, tells him to go get dressed, one son being carted away in next to nothing was bad enough.

When Murphy thunders back downstairs a few minutes later, still getting dressing Connor is gone.

##########

Father Michael Jamison is visiting the psychiatric hospital as he does every week when a door flies open in front of him and a wild man runs through. He is skinny, his long hair and unshaven face hiding him from Michael. They collide and Michael is sent sprawling.

No less than three orderlies fly after the young man as he bounces off the opposite wall and tries to continue on. He's captured and spread on the floor as a harried nurse follows the orderlies and sticks a needle in the man's bicep. Michael looks at him. He knows him.

It takes him some minutes while the orderlies keep him restrained as the drug begins to work. It is the man mentioning his brother that gets Michael's attention. It was….Connor. He was looking at Connor, the one with the mental problem. He stands and watches.

"Connor?" He asks quietly. Connor looks up at him.

"Murph?" He asks groggily. Michael shakes his head but Connor still has hope. He hasn't realised Michael is not Murphy. "Miss you brother, you said you'd come for me, knew you would." And then Connor has passed out cold. Michael touches the nurse just before he moves to follow the orderlies as they take Connor back to the ward.

"How long has he been here? How often does his brother come?" The nurse looks at him.

"Father, he's been here for months and had no visitors at all." Michael's jaw drops as he watches them move away. That evening at his rectory he sits in the kitchen eating his dinner and thinking. Eventually he rings the parish priest where he knew the brothers were from. The priest thankfully is forthcoming. A mention of the 'woman and her sons' gave him a name. MacManus.

Michael timed his call for what he hoped was time enough for an adolescent to be home from school unless he worked, but not a parent who worked to be there. He's just about to hang up the phone when a male voice answers. "Aye?" He's breathless, as if he's run to answer the phone.

"Murphy MacManus?" Michael needs to be clear.

"Aye?" Hesitant now.

"I doubt you'll remember me, my name is Father Jamison," He is cut off.

"Aye Father, I remember, you always favoured garden work as punishment in confession instead of normal prayer." Michael thanked the lord Murphy had a good memory.

"I've seen your brother, the facility tells me you've not been to visit him, is there any way I can help you do so? I think it would benefit him." There is a gasp on the line.

"Me Ma won't tell me where he is, tell me Father, I'll be there tomorrow." There is silence as Michael grapples with what Murphy had just said.

He hangs his head realising he'd stepped in the middle of something he knew nothing about. He hears Murphy breathing harshly now on the other end of the phone. He remembers Connor today, screaming for Murphy, then asking for him, thinking he was Murphy.

"I'll take you to him, can you get the bus here?"

"Aye Father, I'll take a bus to fuckin' hell if it gets me to Con." Murphy answers. "I'll be on the first one out in the morning." Murphy hangs up the phone leaving Michael to sleepless night. Knowing what he does now he realises he won't be able to just present Murphy as Connor's brother.

The next day Michael is standing bleary-eyed at the bus station. He watches a young man get off, tall and broad-shouldered Murphy had grown into a very handsome man. Michael frowned wondering how old he and his brother were.

He takes Murphy back to the rectory and shows him to the bathroom. "Put that on, if your mother hasn't told you where Connor is it's doubtful that she's told anyone who can visit. We'll do our best to look at it today and hopefully when you come back you can do so as Murphy MacManus, Connor's brother." He says as he gestures to the clothing he'd set out. Murphy looks at it and nods.

Michael gets some breakfast ready. When Murphy comes he nods at him and they sit and eat. Not much but some. "How old are Murphy?" Michael asks quietly.

"Seventeen, Eighteen next month." Murphy takes a sip of tea.

"And Connor?" Michael asks taking a sip of his own tea.

"Same Father, we're twins." Michael stares at Murphy for a moment.

"That makes sense, the way you communicate and all." Murphy frowns at him.

"You see that?" Michael nods.

"Yes Murphy, not obvious to a lot, but obvious to me."

"Most people, well they don't like it. Makes them nervous." Murphy finishes his tea and picks up the scone Michael had put out, half is gone in one bite. "Why are you doing this Father?" He asks bluntly his blue eyes connecting with Michael's and not letting go.

"Because I see how you love each other, the world needs more of that. And Connor was looking for you yesterday Murphy, he thought I was you."

Michael sees Murphy blink several times. His eyes shine and then they dull. "Ma," He shakes his head. "Don't know what the fuck she thought she was doing." He says no more and Michael is left with the impression of barely sheathed violence.

He clears their dishes, Murphy helps without being asked or prompted to and they get back in the car. Murphy listens to Michael's instructions and follows them to the letter. Michael deliberately leaves Connor until last, knowing that they won't visit anyone else after this.

They move in the room silently, past other inpatients toward where Michael can see a man standing and staring mindlessly out the window. He moves from side to side as he does so. His arm hugging himself. Michael feels Murphy move beside him, hears the whispered 'Con' even as Murphy begins to move past him.

He stops and watches the brothers. Murphy lays a trembling hand on Connor's bony shoulder. It stills but Connor doesn't look around. Murphy steps forward a little, he looks back at Michael who nods and then without any more hesitation he wraps his arms around Connor's waist and tucks his body against Connor's back.

Michael watches them for several minutes, he sees second by second Connor's whole body accept and realise that it was Murphy hugging him. And then he has turned in Murphy's welcoming arms and tucked his head into the crook of Murphy's shoulder, tears fall from both silently as Michael almost feels their minds reaching out and wrapping around each other again.

He feels like an imposter as he watches their reunion.


	8. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 8

_Flashback…_

The alarm goes off in the dark of early morning. Murphy slaps his hand on it and rolls to his knees on the floor. Shaking his head he stands and moves over to the kitchen and beyond to the small shower and toilet recess. Relieving himself he steps under the shower. His muscles bunch and writhe as the cold water pounds down on him.

Scrubbing himself he rinses off quickly and is out drying himself roughly. He is back in the bedroom getting dressed as the other lump on the mattress stirs and rolls over. Glancing down at his brother's nakedness and morning erection Murphy turns away as he feels his face flush. He ignores his own cock's corresponding jump as he fastens his coveralls and pulls on a beanie and some fingerless gloves. He is out the door before Connor stirs more.

Several hours later he returns, his shoulders are screaming from the repetitiveness of his job. The constant standing in one place and moving only his shoulders as his arms reach for parts is making muscles he didn't even know he had ache. But it was reasonable money for the job, he was lucky he could work the early morning shift, it was the hardest to fill apparently.

Murphy unlocks his door and sees Connor's backside moving as he dances with the radio chopping something in the kitchen. He'd prepare dinner and Murphy would cook it, past experience having taught them anytime Connor got within reach of a stove, he'd kill it stone dead. Thankful he's dressed now Murphy takes off his beanie and gloves and shoves them into his hanging pea coat's pockets. He'd left it at home this morning as it wasn't too cold now. He begins to unsnap his coveralls as he moves into the kitchen.

Brushing past Connor with the slightest touch to his shoulder Murphy frowns at Connor's flinch as he gets a glass and turns on the tap. He drinks two glasses of water as he stands there watching Connor who wasn't looking at him. Usually he'd be turned around and talking to Murphy now, asking how his day had been. Murphy frowns and reaches for Connor with his mind.

Nothing. Well not nothing in that Connor was vacant again thank fuck. But nothing in that Connor had blocked himself off. Shrugging Murphy fills his glass again and goes to shower off his day. There are clean towels on the sink and a fresh bar of soap in the shower. He strips and as he bends over to grab the clothes and toss them outside a small breath of sounds catches his attention.

Connor is standing there looking at him, his arse really. Murphy closes his eyes knowing Connor is seeing the bruises on it. Bruises from what he had done to Murphy over the weekend. Murphy stands and without saying anything he hands Connor his clothes. Before Connor turns away he strokes a hand down Connor stubbled face. He hadn't shaved that day. Murphy tosses him a smile as he steps into the shower and draws the curtain across.

Made of a clear plastic, it's not like Connor can't still see him but Murphy pretends otherwise tonight. He thinks Connor needs to know he's okay, with him blocking Murphy, he can't tell so he pretends the curtain means Connor can no longer see him. Staying out of the spray until it warms up Murphy begins to stroke his cock, soft and steady, his other hand cups his balls gently and he lowers his head, closing his eyes to everything but the pleasure of his own hands.

The spray warms and Murphy steps under it, letting the water beat down on his head and over his sore shoulders and arms. He lets go of himself and hears a faint noise of protest but ignores it as he scrubs himself down. Rinsing his hair, he again takes up his cock, in his left hand this time, his right hand slides the soap through his fingers before he puts it back on the shelf and then moves them around to his backside. He's nervous, he's never done this in front of Connor before.

He slides his fingers down his crack slowly and spreading his legs he pushes his backside out even as he pushes his fingers in. Bearing down at the same time Murphy manages to take two fingers immediately, his groan is mirrored by Connor, still standing and watching. Murphy can see he's still holding Murphy's dirty clothes.

Posing himself for Connor, Murphy turns sideways, now Connor can see both his hand on his cock and his fingers working in his arse. And they feel good. Until Connor had fucked his arse Murphy didn't know anything in there could feel good. Pushing them in Murphy reaches unerringly for that spot that he'd found with some difficulty the first day after Connor had been inside him.

He'd felt Connor brushing it the night before and it had opened a world of pleasure. He wanted, he needed more. His only issue had been keeping it from Connor. Connor had time six days a week to fuck himself, Murphy did not. He was never alone in their apartment, doctor's wouldn't let Connor work, so he was always home.

Murphy knew he helped Father Jamison a lot during the day and he was grateful Connor had found something to do. But since that night, well…he needed time alone and he could never get it. And there was no way he was telling Connor to fuck off for a bit. He would never do that to him, ever.

It had taken Murphy a long time to come to terms with what they had done that night. Confession to Father Jamison, counselling, research. They were both flying blind. Murphy was just glad he had someone who wasn't judging them. He knew he'd shocked Michael, it had shocked him, shocked Connor as well. Though he'd never confessed, Murphy knew. They had barely spoken for months, never mind looked at each other.

Then one day out of the blue, Murphy had come home to hear Connor in the bathroom, jerking off. Moaning, giving himself pleasure and Murphy had wanted nothing more than to go in and watch, take part. Touch Connor, make him come. God help him he wanted to suck Connor, fuck him as he'd been fucked. His own hands had been a blur as he'd opened himself up to Connor, letting Connor's pleasure wash over him, even has he'd opened up his jeans.

He'd forgotten that doing so would open Connor to him. Connor had stopped and Murphy had frozen, leaving himself wide and gaping. And then Connor had continued and Murphy had felt his pleasure heightened. Heightened by Murphy feeling it and Connor feeling Murphy's pleasure in return. And he'd started to jerk himself off again. Murphy had done the same, not moving further beyond the entrance of their flat, in fact he'd just leaned back on the closed door.

They'd opened their minds fully and felt each other's pleasure as they'd jerked off. It had been the second most intense orgasmic experience of Murphy's life, the first being when he and Connor had fucked.

When they'd orgasmed Connor had showered immediately and Murphy had started dinner. Again they'd never spoken of it.

But they had both started sleeping in the nude. And if they woke up tangled in each other they never moved away. And if they happened to rub off on each other, well that was okay. And if in the middle of the night Connor found himself on his stomach with Murphy on top of him or vice versa, they never spoke of that either.

But Murphy was sick of it. Connor wasn't confessing what they were doing which meant that he didn't feel what they were doing was wrong. Murphy had made his own peace with it enough to want more and to have decided to push for it. Now was the perfect time.

Pushing his fingers inside himself Murphy prodded his backside, sliding his middle finger over the nub of what he now knew was his prostate he moaned Connor's name and opened himself up to his brother's mind. He felt Connor's own pleasure in watching Murphy as their minds became one again.

Murphy stroked his hand up and down his cock even as he felt saliva pool in Connor's mouth at the thought of tasting him. Murmuring Connor's name again Murphy opened his mind and his soul, leaving them wide and gaping for Connor to see. To see and feel everything, to know how Murphy had grown to love him even more, as more than a brother, as a lover, as a soul mate.

He feels Connor's answering exultation as he in turn opens his mind and soul as well.

And something happens. Something neither of them expected.

Their souls merge. Becoming one. And their bond is absolute. Murphy turns to Connor and looks at him as he continues to jerk himself off.

He hides no more. He sees Connor lick his lips even as he feels Connor's tongue rasping over them. He knows Connor is feeling him jerk his cock off, the warmth, the slide of skin, the pleasure-pain. And the fucker grins at that realisation and Murphy winces making Connor grin more.

Shaking his head Murphy jerks it at Connor in invitation. Connor drops Murphy's dirty clothes and steps over them even as he yanks his own shirt up and over his head, letting it drop on Murphy's clothes. He opens his buckle and his jeans drop to the ground as he's still gaining back the weight he'd lost when he was in the mental institution.

Pushing the shower curtain off to the side Connor steps into the tub and kneels down, his hands push Murphy's away and his mouth engulfs his cock, sucking fiercely. He hears Murphy groan in pleasure as he sucks up and down a couple of times trying to find his rhythm. But he can't help himself. Pulling off with a lewd pop he looks up at Murphy staring down at him.

"Mine." He says softly raising an eyebrow at Murphy mockingly.

Murphy's mouth thins mutinously and Connor merely tilts his head to the side as he waits. His hands reach out quickly smacking Murphy's own hand away from his cock. Murphy narrows his eyes and then Connor sees them roll and he realises suddenly Murphy still has his other hand inside his backside.

Fucker was going to try for a prostate orgasm. "Fuck no." Connor growls as his hands reach out and pull Murphy's wrist before he's realised what had happened. Connor manages to pull Murphy's fingers from inside himself.

"Connor." Murphy whines at him.

"Mine." Connor repeats. He can't help grinning when Murphy stamps his foot like a petulant two year old instead of an almost grown man. They'd turned nineteen some months ago.

Murphy stops and looks down at Connor, he narrows his eyes before he smiles. Connor smiles with him, Murph's smiles always have the power to make him smile back. Even when he's in the blackest of black moods, a smile from Murphy will drag one from himself as well.

"Mine." Murphy answers him. Connor nods.

"Aye brother." And he stands and he and Murphy stare at each other as the shower patters between them. And then they kiss. Softly, slowly, steadily. They've kissed all their lives, but never as lovers, never as soul mates. Their lips brush. Then they sink into each other, breathing each other in as they brush their tongues over each other's lips teasingly.

It's a greeting of sorts. A hello as they get to know each other as lovers. Yes they'd fucked before, the first time after an argument when they were both angry because Murphy wouldn't let Connor go against the doctor's and drink while on his meds.

That had been their beginning really. That first time had signaled the beginning of their beginning. Their souls had stretched that night and begun to intertwine. Happy to have a mate they'd held tight and not let go.

Connor felt like a puppet to his soul tonight. Their soul now he thought. And with that thought he realised he felt whole. No voices. The faintest of vibrations. But, no voices. He pulled away looking at Murphy, all warm, wet skin and spiky lashes and black eyes. Their soul growls at being pulled away but Connor brushing his fingers over Murphy's ridiculously sharp cheekbones makes the growl of irritation turn into a growl of contentment instead.

"Yours." He answers Murphy.

Murphy smiles sweetly. "Yours." He agrees.

Connor kneels again and takes Murphy's cock in his mouth. Of all the things they've done, he hasn't done this for Murphy. He is slow which makes it better and worse. He doesn't want Murphy to be disappointed in what he does. But Murphy has wanted Connor too long. His cock quite literally explodes in Connor's mouth without warning.

Choking on Murphy's come Connor pulls away and gets a shot in the face that he feels drip down his chin. "Fuck, Murph!" He says as he stands. He goes to move under the shower to clean himself but Murphy leans in and licks his own come off Connor's face lazily.

When he's finished cleaning Connor's face he leans back and licks his lips. "S'posed to swallow brother mine." He says with a superior grin.

Connor narrows his eyes as he watches Murphy. "Yeah?" He questions him as he steps back now, out of the shower and grabs a towel. Their soul shakes itself off and waits, it knows what they're just now realising. They're not finished, not now, not ever.

They belong to each other, no one else.

"Yeah." Murphy agrees as he follows Connor out of the shower. He grabs the second towel and drops it over Connor's head towel drying his hair as Connor starts to dry Murphy's body. Then they switch. Connor dries Murphy's hair and Murphy dries Connor's body.

"Guess you'd better teach me then Murph, you know, being as you have so much experience and all that fuckin' shit." Connor snaps at him and Murphy can't help but laugh.

"Rather have you fuck me." He answers readily instead.

Connor pauses. "You sure?" He questions. Fucking is something they've only done so far in the dead of night. Not ashamed of each other, but shy.

"Long as you realise you'll be returning the favour Con." Murphy says quietly now as he looks at the stuff they have in the bathroom and grabs the cream he uses on his hands after work. "Guess we're gonna need to buy stuff regular-like now." He muses as Connor frowns at him. "What?"

Connor shakes his head. "What shit? Condoms?"

Murphy shakes his head. "No fuckhead, lube. This," He shakes the jar of hand cream. "Isn't meant for that, and unlike a woman's vagina our fuckin' arse don't get wet on its own." He huffs at Connor's naiveté

And Connor snaps. He snarls as he grabs Murphy by the back of the neck pulling him into the bedroom and literally pushing him down on the bedding face first and then sitting on him. Then he pulls something out from underneath the mattress and grabs Murphy's flailing arms and slips the knotted rope over them and pulls it tight. Murphy stops struggling immediately, settling as he never really does.

Connor knows that Murphy has realised he needs to do this. He needs to be in total control sometimes. And now is one of those times. But Connor also knows Murphy needs for him to take over sometimes. Murphy has been so much in control of Connor for years now that he needs to be taken away, given the release of not being in control as well.

They were a double-edged sword, identical and yet like all swords, there were miniscule differences. Not enough to notice to the naked eye, anyone's eyes really but their own. Murphy says silent as Connor ties his wrists. He'd become fascinated with knots when Father Jamison had had him down at the wharf one day as he was doing some volunteer work at a centre there. Connor had gotten caught up with the old fishermen who spent their days knotting fishing nets by hand.

It was a dying art and one he'd taken to. Father Jamison had smiled and the next week had given him a book on knots along with a bit of fishing net he'd cajoled from the fishermen. Connor had spent weeks learning knots. But then he'd found some rope.

And his fascination had become obsession. Obsession, because every time he tied a knot he envisioned the rope he'd graduated to, being tied to his brother. Murphy captured for his pleasure but never imprisoned. He would never do that to Murphy. He knew though Murphy tried to hide it how much he hated going to the hospital for Connor's appointments and check-ups.

Murphy hated them because they represented him at his worst. Connor at his worst. The two of them split apart by something that they had only just now learned to understand.

This flits through Connor's mind as he loops a complicated knot and twines the rope up to Murphy's elbows where he ties more knots, immobilising Murphy from his wrists to his elbows. It was an old frayed grey rope and Connor knew he couldn't keep it on too long or Murphy's skin would rub raw. He'd already learnt that lesson.

Sliding his fingers over the skin and the rope he then takes the hand cream Murphy was still holding out of his hand and opens it scooping some out.

"Spread for me brother, let me see you." Murphy whines a little and shuffles his knees further apart and Connor's cock leaps as he arches his back, pushing his butt out in clear invitation. Connor has only used spit before so he puts a dollop of the cream on Murphy's backside and unlike the last times he's done this he preps Murphy.

"Con." Murphy's voice is breathless. Connor's jaw drops as he literally feels Murphy's muscles open for him, letting him in.

"Fuck, Murph." Connor pushes his fingers in and out of Murphy, he's impatient for his cock to be inside Murphy now they'd both recognised what they are to each other. He needs to claim Murphy as he knows Murphy needs to be claimed and to claim him in return.

"Yes Connor, soon. Stretch me now." Murphy answers as he rocks back on Connor's fingers, fucking himself on them. Connor thinks it's the sexiest thing he's ever seen Murphy do.

"What?" He questions stupidly. What the fuck was Murphy talking about?

"Need to open me Con, with your fingers. So I can take your cock easy." Murphy stops and groans before he continues. "Like scissors, your fingers." He can say no more as Connor has touched his prostate. He clenches his arms, fighting the rope, getting off on the fact that he can't move, can't get away.

And then he moans loudly as Connor starts to stretch him and he feels Connor again press against his prostate and then return. "Fuck." He exclaims.

Chuckling evilly Connor keeps prodding his long middle finger against Murphy's prostate, stroking it mercilessly. Over and over. Murphy is a mass of raw nerve endings, his skin is prickling in sensation and he knows he's about to come from Connor touching his prostate and nothing else.

Feeling the hair on their thighs rubbing together, Connor's right hand on his hip as his left fucks Murphy, Connor's breath ghosting over his back and shoulders. And the rope, Murphy can feel the rope binding him, as he and Connor's souls are irrevocably bound together as one now.

He lets himself go and he soars.

Connor smiles as he feels Murphy come around him, his own cock is hard and leaking. He keeps prodding Murphy's prostate and Murphy keeps coming. And then Connor swiftly pulls his fingers out replacing them with his cock before Murphy is fully aware that he's done so.

But Murphy's groan tells him he's aware that Connor is now fucking him. "Brother." Connor says softly as his hands come to rest on Murphy's hips, his thumbs digging into the swell at the top of Murphy's buttocks. Bruising him. Marking him. And suddenly Connor wants Murphy marked in the worst way.

Their soul agrees, bearing its teeth taunting them both to mark each other. "Fuck you." Murphy mumbles and Connor laughingly agrees. And then he begins to move. Quick, rhythmical slides of his hips back and forth, just pushing for his own orgasm.

Taking his time Connor waits for Murphy to get hard again. He wants Murph to come again but, "Don't come this time Murph, want you to come in me next, need you brother." Connor says and he sees Murphy's tousled head nod.

Connor speeds up, his balls draw up and he knows he's close. Suddenly he shouts as Murphy's backside clenches down on him tightly, forcing his orgasm from his body. "Fuck, you fuckin' fucker!" He yells as he falls forward over Murphy's laughing body.

"Your fuckin' fucker Con." Murphy is still laughing as he answers Connor. Connor lies there for several minutes as he gets his breath back. He can feel Murphy's fingers opening and closing slightly on his skin with the little movement they have, trapped as they are between Murphy's own back and Connor's stomach.

Then moving quick as a snake Connor moves and latches his mouth on the side of Murphy's neck sucking strongly. "Fuck, Con!" Murphy's turn to yell now as he feels Connor ravishing him. Marking him as their soul demands. The people he worked with were going to give him hell he knew.

Then Connor pulls away and his fingers are on the rope, loosening and releasing it. He rubs Murphy's arms restoring circulation. Then Murphy turns over leaving Connor straddling him. He reaches for the cream and after taking some on his fingers he simply moves them between Connor's spread thighs and circles his entrance.

"Push down for me when I push in Con okay?" Murphy asks quietly. They've not stopped looking at each other. Connor nods and takes a deep breath. He feels Murphy begin to press and he winces a little as Murphy's callused fingers push inside him. It's hurtful, but not unbearably so.

Feeling this Murphy doesn't stop. He continues in until his two fingers are fully seated in Connor's backside. Then he scissors them as he'd had to tell Connor to do, which brought something to mind. "How'd you know we should be stretched and shit?" Connor is not mad, he knows Murphy has not had anyone else ever except him. Their bond is such he would have known, would have smelled if Murphy had been with another.

Murphy flushes as he looks up, still keeping eye contact. "Library, Father Jamison and I went to the library, did research." Connor swallows.

"He knows?" Murphy nods.

"Aye Con, he's known from the first time. I confessed and then he counselled me, we counselled each other I guess." Murphy says quietly. Connor looks down at him, he can feel Murphy's fingers still moving in him, stretching him and he can feel the hard rod of Murphy's erection against his buttocks.

Knowing Murphy knows he'd never confessed Connor asks instead, "Why Murph, 's not a sin you know?" Murphy shrugs.

"Me brother Con, I'd never thought of you that way, but it felt right and that felt wrong."

"Father doesn't?" Connor asks quietly even as he begins to move on Murphy's fingers, they've found his own prostate and they're sliding across it gently, almost massaging it.

"Both of us, we talked about it, when I said that as long as you were okay and we were together up here." Murphy's other hand taps his head, "And here," now it taps his heart, "I was happy, he began to accept." Connor nods and pushes down and then up, pulling himself off Murphy's fingers.

Then he reaches back and grasps Murphy's cock at sets it at his hole. Still looking at Murphy he pushes down and Murphy slides into him in a long slow stroke. Both of them feel their souls sigh of pleasure in their hearts.

Murphy sit's up, sliding his hands up Connor's back he clenches them in his still shaggy hair and pulls it back even as he sets his mouth on Connor's neck, sucking and marking him in return. Conn's arms slide around Murphy's shoulders as he feels his vibrations slide away, silent now for the time being. He holds his soul mate to him as he feels him release deep inside.

* * *

_Present…_

Murphy rolls over with a sigh and a stretch. He feels loose and limber, his shoulder isn't twinging. Sitting up he stands and heads to the bathroom. After cleaning his teeth and relieving himself, he dresses and stamping his feet into his boots he heads out to the animals leaving Connor still sleeping.

He grins as he thinks of the loop of silky black rope still knotted around Connor's wrist. He'd been very adventurous last night with the rope. Murphy shakes his head as he realises he's going to have to buy more. As he works, feeding their animals, changing the water, cleaning stalls he opens his mind to Connor, the vibrations are down to the faintest of hums, almost indiscernible now.

Feeling Connor awaken Murphy hurries himself in his tasks. As he heads inside to get breakfast he can feel Connor rising and heading to the bathroom, he grins as he feels Connor's exasperation with himself for sleeping tied up. Then he laughs as Connor tells him what he's going to do to him next with the rope.

Snorting Murphy heads inside and taking off his boots he starts breakfast. "Con, put the washing out, don't want Da to come back to a filthy sty again, sick of his shit." He mutters the last words though he knows Connor hears him anyway.

"Aye Murph." Connor agrees with both statements. Throwing on a pair of sweatpants Connor meanders to the laundry and takes out the washing Murphy had put on last night. He pegs it out and feels contented and happy. Life would be perfect if he and Murph lived here alone.

But he accepted it wasn't the case, though hopefully one day they'd be alone again like they were in America. "Hey Murph, remember what we'd do on Saturdays in Boston?" He asked, calling through the open window, he figures they'd better get back into the habit of talking again.

"Day or night?" Connor grins at Murphy's question.

"Day." He answers as he takes up the basket and moves bank inside the house.

"Aye, you dirty fucker. Lucky we didn't get done for public indecency or some fuckin' shit." Murphy grumbles. "Fuckin' number of times I got fuckin' grass burns on me arse." He is off now and Connor smiles as he stands in the hallway watching Murphy work in the kitchen.

Walking forward he slides his arms around Murphy's lean waist, copping a feel before he just hugs Murphy to him. "Let's go outside today Murph, want to fuck you in the sun again."

Murphy leans back on him, spatula in one hand and the other reaching up behind him, fingers sliding through Connor's once again shaggy hair. He yanks on it none too gently. "Fuckin' rope again Con?"

"Aye Murph, rope too." Connor kisses Murphy's neck tattoo gently.

Murphy sighs, "You and your stupid fuckin' rope Con, I swear to fuckin' God."

Connor grins. "Lords fuckin' name." It's Murphy's turn to snort now.

"Guess I'd better make us a lunch too then." He turns the bacon and Connor steps away to make the tea.

Both of them are looking forward to being outside in the sun together with no one else around them. Murphy looks at the calendar. Two days until Noah is back.

It is time enough he thinks.


	9. Feast On My Flesh Chapter 9

Murphy slides his backpack on and straps it across his shoulders. Then he puts his foot in the stirrup and mounts his horse. Connor is already seated. It's a beautiful day, sunny, not a cloud in the sky. They ride away toward the untilled land where they usually let the livestock feed. Neither of them feel the need to rush, it's just them and the day.

"Need to go back for the sheep in a few days." Murphy says as Connor leans down to open a gate and push it open enough for their horses to walk through. Then he leans down and digs his heels in gently so his horse walks back to the fence and he closes and latches the gate again.

"Aye, stay up there a few days too I think Murph." He answers as they continue on their way. He knows where they're going, it's where he's wanted to take Murphy for months, since he'd first come across the ruin.

"Da'll be pleased to have the house to himself 'm sure." Murphy snorts as does Connor. They both know Noah has a lady friend over when they're not there. Both of them sneeze uncontrollably upon entering their house after she's been there due to the cheap perfume she wears.

"Sick of them usin' our fuckin' bed though, thinkin' we need to put a stop to that." Connor says as well.

"Only way you're gonna do that Con, is if Da gets a double bed." Murphy dislikes it as well but they both consider it a fair trade. At least Noah always washes the sheets.

"Na Murph, I'm thinkin' we need a bigger bed 'n Da can have our old one. It's time." Murphy stops and looks at Connor.

He raises an eyebrow. "Queen size Con?" He asks with a very impish smile on his face.

"Fuck no!" Connor is aghast. "King size Murph, king size." He laughs loudly as does Murphy.

"Fuck, okay. Da is gonna shit fuckin' bricks when we come home with that, gonna mean new sheets and blankets and shit too you know." Murphy sighs as he thinks of it. "We got the dough?" He asks without thinking. Connor's snort makes him realise what he said. "Oh fuck you, you retard, we said we wasn't gonna use that." He says irritably.

"Kinda think we need to Murph, if I come home again and smell that flowery shit on me pillow I'm gonna fuckin' do Da some damage, 's bad enough he thinks its okay to give us, well you, shit about us. Don't gotta take his shit if he don't take ours." These past days have made Connor realise he's sick of Noah and his attitude.

"Da needs a come to Jesus talk Murph, 'n if he don't pull his fuckin' head in I'm gonna take care of him." Connor says simply. Murphy pulls on his reins and looks over at Connor.

"Aye Con, aye." He says as he pushes his heels into the horse so they start walking again.

A few hours later they stop at the ruin Connor had found. One and a half walls still stand, Murphy raises his eyebrows as he sees the newly placed beam set in place going from the standing wall down to the half standing wall. It has some grooves in it near the higher end of it.

And a strand of coarse rope dangles from it.

"You fucker." Murphy breathes as he stares at it. Then he looks at Connor slyly. "Been planning shit have we Con?" Connor shrugs. "Now, you know your plans are full of shit right?" He can't help goading his brother.

"'S not true Murph, you know fuckin' well when it comes to you and rope, me plans are fuckin' flawless." Connor looks at Murphy mutinously.

Murphy grins back. "Guess you'd better prove it to me then brother." He swings off his horse and loosens the girth. Then he moves to the half wall and unsnaps and removes his backpack leaving Connor to hobble their horses. He also removes their saddles as he plans to keep Murphy here for a while.

Murphy stands and watches his brother. Opening himself he feels for Connor's vibrations. They're silent. Gone again for now. He smiles. This one today is just for them, because they want to, not because they need to.

Pursing his lips Murphy starts to strip. When he is down to nothing but his jeans he shivers a little, the day is sunny but not overly warm. He moves to stand by the dangling rope and dropping the black rope they'd brought along he stands in Connor's preferred position. And he waits.

Connor finishes hobbling the horses and he turns to see Murphy waiting for him. Everything Connor is for Murphy pools in his mouth. He wipes his chin half expecting to wipe away drool. Murphy is beautiful. Long and lean though not as lean as he. Pale skin to Connor's throwback olive tone to some unknown ancestor, his dark hair blowing in the wind now with its longer cut and his beard blowing too. And his tattoos, black ink.

Their tattoo on his back, the first one, their devils. One for he and one for Murphy. And the just started one of Jesus' feet on the cross, blending in to the devils. Connor could visualize it all in his mind. Stepping to Murphy he slides his hand around the back of Murphy's neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

It is lazy, all spit and tongue and it is endless, just as their love for each other is endless. "Me reason for breathing Murph." Connor says as he pulls back finally. He watches Murphy's slumberous eyes open and sees his pupils have expanded in desire. He watches their shared soul flex at him through them and he knows his is stretching right back. Kneeling down Connor reaches for the rope.

First he starts to rope Murphy's chest, knotting carefully as he goes, his fingers still gliding over the rope reverently even though he's been handling it every day for nearly a week. When he's finished Murphy's chest looks like he's wearing a submissive harness. Connor can't help leaning down and teasing Murphy's nipples, already hard from the cool breeze, to even harder nubs. He smiles as he hears Murphy moan softly.

Running his hands over the rope and Murphy's pale, inked and scarred skin Connor palm's his own cock, adjusting it so he's more comfortable. He already wants nothing more than to fuck Murphy. But he has had this vision in his head ever since he'd found the ruin and he wanted to see Murphy strung up on the beam he'd set in place.

Next he starts to tie the rope around Murphy's hips and thighs, making him look like he's wearing a pair of chaps almost, knotting every few inches so they form a decorative belt around Murphy's hips and upper thighs Connor makes sure that he's left the groin open also like a pair of chaps. This time he palms Murphy's erection and leans in to take a kiss when Murphy pushes his hips insistently back on Connor's palm.

"Easy now, there'll be time brother." Connor grins at Murphy who frowns at him but subsists. Then Connor takes Murphy's hands and brings them behind his back where he ties the rope around Murphy's forearms, up near the elbow. Then he ties this to the back of Murphy's rope around his hips and then around Murphy's wrists When Murphy is immobilised this way Connor reaches down and grabs more rope, this he ties around Murphy's knees.

Then he throws is up over the beam. Without prompting Murphy gets down on the ground and allows Connor to brace the rope and slowly drag Murphy up so he is dangling from the beam, his body swaying gently. Then Connor ties more rope around Murphy's ankles and wrists, binding them together as well.

Murphy is literally hanging upside down hog-tied in a very fancy way. Closing his eyes Murphy let's himself settle. He feels Connor holding his hip and stilling his turning.

When he has stilled completely Murphy opens his eyes. He see's Connor's booted feet and jean-clad legs. Then he sees the bulge of Connor's cock pushing insistently against his jeans. Murphy licks his lips unconsciously. He hears Connor chuckle.

"Fuck you Con, give it to me." He says as he flexes against the ropes, not trying to free himself, but making sure he is held securely. He wants Connor's cock and he wants it now.

Connor chuckles darkly as Murphy sees hands come to the belt, they don't undo it though, they merely lower the zipper and those long manipulative fingers reach inside and draw out the cock. They glide over it smoothly, stroking and teasing Murphy. He can feel the saliva pooling in his mouth and trying to run down his nose as he's upside down.

Turning his head he hawks a globule to the ground and hears Connor chuckle again. Before he can swear at him however Connor has stepped up and pushed his cock toward Murphy.

Murphy groans as he takes it in. Upside down Connor slides easily down his throat. Murphy swallows around him and Connor groans as he does so. Beginning to suck and slide his tongue over Connor's cock Murphy sets about making Connor come hard and fast.

Sucking strongly Murphy let his tongue play over the underside of Connor's cock. Then he lets Connor pop out of his mouth with a sucking sound. A string of saliva still connect them. Murphy noses Connor's balls, his tongue flicking at them over and over before his teeth nibble at them ever so gently.

Connor groans again as he leans on Murphy, his fingers digging into Murphy's denim and rope covered thighs, his nail scraping roughly which makes Murphy's muscles jump and writhe under his touch. Rubbing his cheek against Murphy's thigh Connor turns his head and opens his mouth biting down.

As Murphy feels Connor's teeth clench on his thigh he feels Connor's balls draw up and suddenly wet liquid splashes against his cheek and neck, Murphy feels it drip down his face over his cheekbone and eye, over his forehead and into his hair where it drips on the ground.

Keeping his eyes closed Murphy speaks. "Con, need to clear me eyes." He says softly. Connor takes a breath and lets go of Murphy's legs and then he kneels down pulling a rag out of his back pocket. He cleans Murphy's eyes so he can open them and then he sits back and stares at Murphy.

"So beautiful Murph, so pretty, can we get a different coloured rope next time?" He asks softly as his fingers slide through his own come and he licks it off. Murphy's mouth makes a moue of disappointment and Connor shakes his head at him as he scoops up more semen and smears it all over Murphy's lips.

Before Murphy can lick it off Connor leans over and does it for him, then he slowly licks and sucks the rest of his come of Murphy's face and neck, sharing it with his brother as he does so. When he's finished he stands and his fingers unsnap Murphy's jeans.

"Yes, fuck Con. Yes." Murphy says with a moan and a twitch as Connor pulls Murphy's cock out of his jeans. Connor sucks Murphy down quickly. He needs to make this fast. Murphy cannot be kept upside down for long, it's too dangerous.

Sliding two fingers into Murphy's jeans past his balls Connor pushes them inside Murphy. He huffs around Murphy's cock as he feels the lube, fucker had prepped himself before they'd left home. Stroking to find Murphy's prostate Connor pushes relentlessly against it when he finds it and Murphy shoots in his mouth with a shouted moan, filthy sexual words spewing from his mouth making Connor smile.

"Dirty fucker." He says as he pulls himself off and kneels down where he opens his mouth on Murphy and shares Murphy's own come with him as well. When they've finished kissing Connor stands.

Stepping back he takes one last look at Murphy, imprinting him on his memory and he opens his mind in full allowing Murphy to see himself through Connor's eyes. He vaguely hears Murphy's moan of pleasure at the sight.

Then Connor unties the rope and gently lowers Murphy to the ground. He unties Murphy's wrists and ankles and then the rope on Murphy's forearms as well. When Murphy's arms are free he rolls on his stomach and pushes up and back into Connor.

Brushing his arse against Connor. Deliberately Connor knew. He looks at the rope and Murphy's jeans and then he begins to tug the jeans down from under the rope around Murphy's hips. Murphy wiggles his hips in either aid or anticipation, Connor isn't sure which, only that it drives him insane with the need to own his brother's body.

When the jeans are tugged down to just under the swell of Murphy's backside Connor puts two fingers in his mouth and slicks them up before he pushes them inside his brother. Murphy didn't really need the prep, Connor wanted to touch him this way.

"Con," Murphy whines. "Fuck me now, want your cock." Connor's chuckle is evil Murphy thinks. He's going to tease him and Murphy needs him too much. Murphy retaliates by clenching down hard on Connor's fingers and moving a hand to his own cock knowing it will set Connor off.

"Don't you fuckin' dare Murphy." Connor states firmly. Murphy however ignores Connor and keeps jerking himself off. And then Connor has grabbed his arms and twisted them behind his back, roping them haphazardly this time due to being in a hurry.

"You fucking fucker." He mutters. "Always got to be in fuckin' charge don't you baby brother?" He is snarling now in irritation wishing that just once he could take his time with his brother, give him the pleasure he needs.

Murphy knows what Connor wants to do but he needs Connor too much to allow him to take his time. When he has no choice however, it's a different matter. He stills himself as soon as his wrists are bound and waits for Connor docilely.

Smirking now Connor stands and moves to their pack, he takes out the lube and opens it squirting it onto his cock. Making sure Murphy can see him he starts to jerk himself off, slow and languid. Like he's got all the time in the world. He looks at Murphy's black gaze and smiles at the sheer want and need and anger at being denied that he sees there.

"Want something brother?" He asks softly. He watches Murphy narrow his eyes. Then he nods.

"And what would that be then Murph?" He asks as he makes himself jerk in pleasure by teasing his slit with his little finger. He watches Murphy watch this particular move and feels his balls draw up and the spit in his mouth dry at the look on Murphy's face.

He knows Murphy has registered what he was doing, knows Murphy will get him what he needs, will do what he needs.

Connor can't wait anymore, teasing Murphy is never good because it teases himself as well. Moving back behind Murphy Connor kneels and slides into him immediately. They both moan as they feel complete again. Keeping themselves open to each other they begin to make love.

Steadily, slowly. Constant in their pleasure for themselves and each other. It's them and the world around them, they are one with each other, the scenery surrounding them pales in comparison to the beauty that is Murphy and Connor.

And when they come, they come together. Always.


	10. Feast On My Flesh Epilogue

Murphy and Connor look around, they've cleaned the place top to bottom today and they glance back at their bedroom where their new bed awaits them. They restrain themselves from christening it again however.

They'd brought it home yesterday and done so immediately before they'd even put sheets on it to their own disgust. They'd moved their old double bed into Noah's room and the bunk bed out into one of the outdoor sheds. They had the thought of making a playroom of sorts out there away from Noah, but it was a vague idea at present.

Murphy is finishing dinner as Connor sets the table when they hear the vehicles pull in. Noah comes in and stops, looking around in surprise he then looks at Connor and Murphy. He can tell immediately they're fine, Murphy especially. No marks or bruises on him that Noah can see apart from a couple of bruises on his neck.

But that is par for the course. Connor is the same. Noah frowns as he looks at Connor. He's better. Better than usual he thinks. There was something different about him this time. Or maybe he was different, having the perspective he did now. Shrugging Noah takes his bag into his room and stops at the bed in there. He glances at Murphy and Connor's room. The door is shut.

Pursing his lips Noah considers opening it to check but decides against it when Michael finally comes inside too. He greets both Murphy and Connor with hugs and gives Murphy a bakery box. He always brings a decadent dessert when he comes for dinner.

The four of them sit and eat. It is a peaceful meal. Murphy and Connor can tell immediately that Noah has reached a level of understanding. They talk to each other silently and briefly and decide to say nothing to him at present. He'll keep, as will the German's bog.

Murphy stands and walks outside to feed the animals leaving the dishes to Connor and Noah. He knows they'll be okay. Michael accompanies him. They talk of silly stuff, food mostly. Michael has brought a few recipes for Murphy and Murphy has a couple for Michael.

When they're walking back to the cottage Murphy stops and stares at the setting sun. Michael sees the way it lights him from the inside and knows God has touched Murphy had his brother. The more he is in their company the more he is certain of this, they are marked for great things, if not here, then in the afterlife.

"Thank you Michael, for telling Da' things were getting bad."

"I only did what you told me to Murphy, went against my teachings and beliefs, but for you and Connor I would do anything." Michael says. He remembers the conversation he and Murphy had had when Noah had found out about them.

'When you feel he would listen, Michael you've my permission to tell him of how me an' Con came to be' the quiet way he'd said it. The way he'd looked at Michael knowing Michael would have trouble with this.

"Aye Michael, that you did. I spoke about it with you outside of the confessional as well, so it wasn't doing the wrong thing to me, and I'm the one it concerns after all."

"Yes Murphy, you are." Michael stops and draws Murphy into a hug that is returned. Before they can break away another pair of arms slide around them both.

"Thank you muchly Michael." Connor says softly in his ear. Michael smiles as he pulls away. Clearing his throat he moves inside to gather his things.

When he's on his way Murphy, Connor and Noah head back inside. Murphy checks the kitchen in clean and then heads into the bathroom. He starts the shower and silently tells Connor to hurry the fuck up.

Connor looks at Noah and Noah looks back at him. Connor answers Murphy and then closes himself off. "No fuckin' more shite on Murph, you got that Da?" Connor doesn't wait for Noah to answer, he turns and opening himself to his soul again he moves into the bathroom closing the door gently behind him.

Noah settles down in front of the fire with his pipe. It's a deal he can live with now he thinks.

* * *

_A/N - Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, followed and favourited Feast On My Flesh. I hope you have enjoyed Murphy and Connor's journey._


End file.
